Connect the dots
by JolinarJackson
Summary: While helping Don out with a case, Charlie gets hit by a car. Soon it becomes clear that the accident was in fact an attack. A race against the clock begins, loyalties are questioned and Charlie has to fight his very own demons.
1. Chapter 1

**Connect the dots**

_Word Count: _28.450

_Summary:_ While helping Don out with a case, Charlie gets hit by a car. Soon it becomes clear that the accident was in fact an attack. A race against the clock begins, loyalties are questioned and Charlie has to fight his very own demons.

_Characters: _Charlie Eppes, Don Eppes, Alan Eppes, Amita Ramanujan, David Sinclair, Megan Reeves, Colby Granger, Larry Fleinhardt, OCs

_Pairing:_ Charlie/Amita (but only hints – canon pre-relationship)

_Rating:_ PG_  
Spoiler: Sniper Zero,_ _For better or worse  
Setting:_ Season 2 – _after For better or worse  
Author's Note: _Written for the _Numb3rs Big Bang 2010_. The challenge asked for at least 20.000 words.

_Feedback:_ Can't breathe without it.

_Beta:_ Thanks to Lilac for the very first read-through of the beginning – it really helped me out. You may not know it, but you made Agent Hitchcock a more complex character just by pointing out the flaws in the early plot. And thank you for hooking me up with …

… Ruth – one of the fastest betas ever. Thanks for straightening out my mistakes and for making the story better.

And Anne-Aunyme: You are my German run-to girl for everything concerning _Numb3rs_. You did a bang up job with that beta, pointing out my obvious story flaws and making me laugh. Above all this, you encouraged me to go through with the story when I was frustrated, reminding me of the deadline and telling me to keep writing. Thanks.

_Disclaimer: _I'm not making money with this fanfic. The tv-show _Numb3rs_ and the characters appearing within it belong to their producers and creators. Any similarities to living or dead persons are purely coincidental and not intended.

XXX

XXX

8 agents

8 years

1 hit and run

x dirty cops

**1.**

"_Oh, God! Oh, my …"_

It was almost dark around him - night. A few feet away, he saw street lanterns but their cold light was barely able to reach him. It was raining. And it was cold. And there was something directly above him he didn't recognize at first, until his vision cleared and he realized that there were trees forming a black semi-roof against the dark blue cloudy sky above him ... and he wondered for a second why he was just lying here, on the ground, if it was raining so hard.

The pain came back then and he groaned loudly. Everything hurt. Damp coldness was creeping into his clothes and body, making him feel as if he was lying on a block of ice. He tried to raise a hand but his body didn't listen to him. A shadow moved about him.

"_Oh, God … I think he's awake. Help me. What should I do? I don't even know …"_

Somebody was talking, but not to him, and his voice was sounding strangely muffled and distorted as if he wasn't there at all … and everything was just hurting.

"_Mister?"_

The shadow above him was closer now, blocking the view of the trees and he forced himself to concentrate on it. But his eyes watered and his head was aching.

"_Say something."_

And everything just dropped into darkness.

XXX

"… Eppes. That's what his ID says."

The pain was still there. Somebody was touching him and light pierced his eyes – only briefly, then it was gone. He was cold. He could feel himself shivering and he realized that he was wet, but he didn't know why.

"The pupils are reacting just fine. But their size differs. Maybe his skull's fractured."

"Doctor, we need more blood."

"I want a CT and an x-ray of his chest. Now. Clear an OR for us."

"Yes, Doctor."

"Page Dr. Cummings. I want a neurologist to take a look at his head."

A more severe, new pain shot through his body like lightening, letting him flinch and groan, before the pain faded into a steady, blunt stinging in his flank, forcing him to turn his head to cough. He tried to move his legs but the pain just got worse. The stabbing pain in his chest intensified and took his breath away. He gasped. A hand touched his cheek. "Charles? Charles, look at me."

Again the lightning-sharp pain, again originating in his flank. He felt a hand on his chest, applying pressure and only making things worse.

"No," he whispered, weakly trying to shove the hand aside.

"Charles? No. It's okay. You're in a hospital. I'm Charlotte. Look at me." Warm fingers enclosed his cold hand, holding it tightly but gently. He sobbed.

"It hurts, I know," the woman said softly, speaking closer to his ear, and he cracked his eyes open to look at her. His vision remained fuzzy and he blinked. The pressure on his chest got stronger and he whimpered softly, trying to turn his head. He saw somebody standing beside him, pressing his hands to his flank. He tried to turn away, away from the man next to him who kept hurting him, but several hands prevented the movement.

"No, no, no. Charlotte, I can't sedate him, yet. We have to wait for the anaesthetist. Calm him down."

"Charles," the woman said firmly, then her voice got softer, "Charlie? Look at me." She turned his head. Her face was still fuzzy and dark spots were dancing in front of his eyes. "You were in an accident. You're in a hospital."

An accident … he didn't remember being in an accident. He just remembered being at CalSci … then …

_The asphalt tore his jeans up and his legs got caught in the bike. The ground was wet and cold and everything hurt. _

"Charlie, don't do that," the woman said.

Fear gripped him when he suddenly remembered: He'd been in an accident!

"BP's speeding up."

"Where is that damn anaesthetist?"

_Rain clouds were looming above him and headlights were cutting through the darkness. Somebody was leaning over him. "Damn." _

Charlotte shook her head, staring at Dr. Brody. "We're losing him. He's non-responsive."

"Keep trying," the man said, still applying pressure to the steadily bleeding gash in the young man's side. Suddenly, Charlie's grip tightened and Charlotte focused on him again. He stared at her feverishly, his eyes clouded by pain. Blood welled up from under the makeshift bandage which covered the deep cut in his forehead and ran down over his face. She saw his fear and confusion. She knew that gaze. Almost every patient coming into the Emergency Room was wearing it. Most of the time, they didn't remember how they had gotten here.

"Beta …," he whispered.

"What?" Charlotte asked, leaning closer to him, "Charlie, what did you say?"

"… 13 48 Ome …"

Charlotte fumbled for the pen always in her scrubs' breast pocket and leaned even closer. "Charlie? Repeat."

"Beta … 13 48 … Omega … 83."

She jotted it down on the back of her hand. "What does that mean? Charlie?"

He was staring at her with dark eyes, not answering.

"Is that the plate of the car that hit you?" Charlotte asked.

Charlie shook his head and Charlotte could see that he didn't know what it meant. "FBI …," Charlie whispered, "Call FBI." He closed his eyes and didn't open them again.

XXX

The display of Dr. Charles Eppes' cell phone was cracked but it was still working – showing the time in the left corner, 3:06 am, and that it needed charging soon – but, most importantly, that Charlotte was still able to access his contact list. Charlotte had looked through the phone list and made the decision that she should either contact "Donnie" or "Dad". Having placed a call to "Dad", that went automatically to voice mail, she hung up. There were things that shouldn't be left on people's answering services unless there was no other way.

Dialing again, this time for "Donnie", she was rewarded after eight rings by a sleepy voice, _"Eppes."_

'_The same family name'_, the nurse thought, _'maybe a brother?'_

"This is Charlotte Wyatt from Huntington Hospital. I got your number from the cell of one of our patients who came in an hour ago – Charles Eppes."

A moment of shocked silence followed.

"_Charlie? What happened?" _

"It appears he was hit by a car while cycling and is currently in surgery."

"_What hospital did you say you're calling from?"_ Donnie asked.

"Huntington."

"_I know where that is, I'll be there as fast as I can."_ He disconnected the call.

XXX

Rain beating against the window as the citizens of LA left their homes to go to work. Don looked at his watch. They had been waiting for almost five hours now for information on Charlie and he would need to call the office soon to let them know he wouldn't be in until later. As the time had passed and Don had watched Alan via his reflection in the Emergency Room's waiting area windows, it had become clear to him that he would need to be the strong one in this situation. And that he had to call Larry. And Amita.

As Alan had sat with his head bowed, hands wrapped around a still full Styrofoam cup of cold coffee, staring into the middle distance, Don had been calling in favours the LAPD owed him – making sure the scene was being covered, getting the investigation started and making sure he was kept in the loop.

Charlie had been hit by a car when he'd been on his way home, only three blocks from his house. Fragments of a windshield on the road told the police where it had happened.

Officers had questioned the residents and found a young mother, who, while dealing with her very cranky baby, had heard something at midnight. However, she hadn't been able to see anything out of her window; the baby had cried again and she'd just forgotten whatever it had been that had drawn her attention.

A student, coming from his graveyard shift at a diner and taking a shortcut through the small wooded area next to the street, had found Charlie in the early morning hours. If the accident really had happened around midnight, Charlie had been laying on the forest soil in the rain for hours; his bicycle beside him, the helmet only a couple of feet away. The police assumed that the driver had fled after Charlie was flung into the bushes and the rain had washed away all evidence - only fragments left behind.

They were still looking for anyone who could have seen the car but it had been in the middle of the night in a quiet residential area and Don knew the chances of finding a witness weren't good.

With a little bad luck, the car was already disposed of or in the midst of being repaired; there were mechanics who took on such work, asking only for a surcharge for their silence.

"Family of Charles Eppes?" a man asked and Don turned around to face a black doctor in scrubs and a woman wearing a white doctor's coat. _'Two doctors'_, Don thought in panic, _'are a bad sign.'_ The man brushed his green cap off the short clipped, black hair and shoved it into his pocket. The woman had long, black hair, which she was wearing in a strict knot, and her blue eyes were looking friendly and patient.

Don cleared his throat. "I'm his brother, Don Eppes. My father Alan." He sat down next to him, ready to hear whatever the doctors had to tell them.

Alan rubbed his forehead, he looked like he'd aged several years in a span of only two hours. "How bad is it?"

The doctors pulled over two chairs and sat down opposite them and the surgeon began to explain, "I'm Dr. Brody, Charlie's doctor, and this is Dr. Cummings, our neurologist."

"Neurologist," Alan repeated, his voice quivering.

"Charlie has some serious head injuries," Brody said, sounding calming even though the news was bad, "We're just making sure." The doctor glanced into Charlie's file and at the papers Alan had filled in.

"Charlie's stable and he will survive."

Relieved, Alan closed his eyes while Don smiled slightly, waiting for Dr. Brody to continue, because there was more, there was always more. The doctor looked at them, serious and reserved. "Charlie suffered a broken left leg and wrist; he has three broken ribs with another two that are bruised. One of his lungs was punctured, which we were able to repair, but it's going to take awhile for it to heal. A large shard of glass, probably from the windshield of the car that hit him, was removed from his abdomen, causing a lot of damage to the muscle and other tissues in the area and he lost a lot of blood." He paused momentarily before coming to the worst of the injuries. "Charlie also has two serious head injuries accompanying a fractured skull."

Alan rubbed his chin. "Punctured lungs? What …?"

Dr. Brody looked at him patiently. "It means that one of Charlie's ribs injured his lungs. We were able to repair the damage and we're confident that there will be no repercussions."

Dr. Cummings continued from there, "His head injuries are what we are most worried about. We can't say for sure what consequences the injuries will have until Charlie's awake, but you should be aware that brain damage is possible."

"Brain damage?" Don asked, shocked.

"Again, we can't say for certain because we'll need to evaluate Charlie when he's awake, but with the injuries as they stand, it's quite possible."

"You don't understand," Alan argued helplessly, "Charlie's … a genius. His brain's …"

Dr. Cummings shook her head with understanding and heartfelt sympathy. "I'm sorry, Mr. Eppes, but it's not something we have any control over. The brain is a very complex and fragile thing and the injuries your son has sustained are significant. There's nothing we can do to prevent whatever possible damage has occurred."

"Can we see him?" Alan asked.

Doctor Brody nodded. "Charlie's in Recovery now and then he'll be transferred to the ICU; it's standard procedure for someone who's gone through what you son has, even though he's fairly stable. If his condition continues to be so, if he doesn't deteriorate, we'll then transfer him over to the Neurology wing some time this evening. You can see him in about an hour – in ICU – but only for a few minutes; he needs rest and so do both of you."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**2.**

Colby sipped his coffee as he looked at the people around the conference table. As Megan leafed through their current case file, not actually seeing anything, David was sitting opposite Colby. Standing at the head of the table with his hands buried in his pants pockets, waiting for the rest of his team, was Agent Tom Hitchcock. The man was tall and slim, his years of experience showed in his intense brown eyes and the wrinkles etched into his forehead and around his mouth. When his agents, Sandra Balin, Simon Mirren and Tanja Singer had taken their seats at the table, Hitchcock started the briefing with news of Charlie, "Agent Eppes will join us later; his brother was in a car accident last night and is in the ICU."

As Sandra and Tanja looked at each other in shock, Simon Mirren raised his blond eyebrows in surprise.

"How is he?" Agent Balin asked.

David cleared his throat. "As good as he can be. He was hit by a car while riding his bicycle home; has a few broken bones, got impaled with some glass. Their major concern is his head injuries though."

Hitchcock sighed. "Whatever, we'll have to continue our investigations without Dr. Eppes' help." He sounded as if he was sorry about it, but Colby knew, that Hitchcock couldn't stand Charlie - and his methods. Colby was the last one to admit that he hadn't been sceptical concerning Charlie's help at the beginning but now, he knew better. Since Don had asked Charlie to help them out on the case, Hitchcock was demeaning his contributions and Charlie himself. Meanwhile, the conflict wasn't just between Charlie and Hitchcock anymore, but between Hitchcock and Don's team, too.

Hitchcock's team had tried to stay neutral at the beginning, but Sandra and Tanja had developed kind of a crush on Charlie and Simon, who was quite talented in math himself, was showing honest interest in Charlie's work.

The fact that Hitchcock didn't seem to be interested in Charlie's wellbeing was irritating Colby. He concealed the feeling, concentrating instead on what Hitchcock was saying. "JM seems to know that we're close to finding him. Our contacts on the drug scene told me that he parted with some of his dealers because he thinks that they were spying on him for us."

"But we've got no concrete lead," David said.

Hitchcock shook his head and Tanja asked, "Why don't we put surveillance on the rest areas Dr. Eppes found for us?" She held up the file Colby had personally handed over to Charlie in his office a couple of days ago. It was a little thicker and Colby knew that Charlie had neatly printed out and added his calculations and results to the file, like he always did.

Nobody but Charlie understood the equations but the mathematician didn't seem to give up hope that somebody was reading his contributions to the case files.

Tanja brushed a few strands of blond, shoulder-length hair behind her ears, obviously nervous about her boss' reaction to her suggestion. "He gave them to me yesterday in the evening."

That explained why Don's team hadn't seen them before now. They had been at a raid. A tip had led them to a warehouse in the industrial area Vernon but it had turned out to be a flop. Completely exhausted after a day that had started at three a.m. in the morning with a murder on one of JM's dealers, Don's team had driven home shortly before midnight to get some sleep while Hitchcock's team was staying at the office.

Hitchcock grimaced. "We shouldn't waste our time with something that won't bring any results."

David frowned. "I think we should. And Don will, too."

"Well, Agent Eppes isn't here," Hitchcock answered with a dangerous edge to his voice.

Megan nodded. "Right. But Charlie did help us out more than once. And he made the effort to find those rest areas. We should at least give it a go and see if something's coming out of it. We have to start somewhere. Why don't we start with the rest areas where JM sells his drugs to the dealers?"

Hitchcock crossed his arms. Then he nodded reluctantly. "Okay."

XXX

When Don joined them at noon and sat down without a greeting to check his mailbox, Colby, David and Megan exchanged undecided and alerted looks. Finally, they decided mutely that Megan should talk to Don and, clearing her throat softly, she joined him in his cubicle. She leant against his desk. "Hey!"

He looked up briefly from the mail he was reading. "Hey!" he answered. She could see how much the night at the hospital had exhausted him. To be called into the hospital in the middle of the night after a tiring day seemed to have drained his last reserves.

Otherwise, Don was rather robust.

"How's Charlie doing?" Her voice was gentle. It was her therapy voice, how Colby and David called it jokingly.

Don rubbed his forehead, his eyes pinned to the screen. "He's hanging on. He's still unconscious."

"Shouldn't you be with him?" Megan asked.

"They won't let us see him again until three p.m. He needs rest."

Megan noticed the worried frown dug into his forehead. "You should go home and sleep for a while."

"Megan," he said firmly, staring at her in determination, "I'm fine. Charlie will survive. The only thing …" He took a breath. "The only thing worrying us is brain damage."

Megan swallowed a wave of dismay. She'd grown fond of Charlie in the few weeks she knew him.

Not only because of his help with the cases but also because he was becoming a friend. From the very beginning, she'd seen that the relationship between the brothers was characterized by Don feeling responsible for Charlie. He was staring at the screen but he didn't really see it. Maybe, he was seeing Charlie, pale and broken in a hospital bed. Charlie was Don's weak link. No matter how badly they fought … Don's loyalty and worry for his brother was indestructible.

"Don," Megan said gently, "you don't need to be here. We can manage alone for a while. At least until Charlie's awake."

Don ignored her.

"You need to be there for your-"

"Megan!" he said loud enough for Colby and David to raise their heads, "Don't! I'm here!" His eyes were warning her.

Megan nodded. "Okay."

"Good," Don answered. He pulled his cell out of his pocket and glanced at the display. He tensed up and Megan decided to stay put.

"He called me," Don said. It didn't sound like news to him, but like a fact he needed to repeat to himself to believe it.

Megan noticed a list of missed calls on Don's display. "You didn't notice them before?" she asked in confusion.

Normally, Don was practically glued to his cell. "I … in the hospital, I didn't want to deal with them." He stared at the cell. "Megan, he called me at three thirty a.m." He looked up at her. "The accident was at midnight."

"Don," Megan said gently, "let me handle this."

"I didn't hear the cell. I left it in the living room. When the hospital called …"

"Give me the cell," Megan said, taking it from him, "I'm going to put in on speaker, okay?" She didn't get a response and took that as a nod. She put a hand on his shoulder while the other one was holding the cell. The first message began to play.

"_Hey, Don, it's me. I'm sure, you're already asleep. I just thought I … listen, let me know if you're okay. I hope the raid went well. Did you get the calculations? I left them with Agent Singer. Uh … well, speak to you, then."_

He hung up. Don massaged his forehead while the next message started.

"_Hey, Don! It's nearly midnight, now. I'm a bit worried because you don't call me. I'm going home, now. Just call me, okay?"_

Megan closed her eyes, swallowing while she listened the last message. Charlie was sounding confused and his gasping breathing was irregular.

"_Don? I think I'm in trouble. Please … answer. Please …"_

The message was finished. Furious, Don grabbed the cell from Megan's hand. "Why did I leave my cell in the living room? I could have helped if I would have heard him calling me. I could have picked him up at CalSci."

Megan knew that it wouldn't suffice to tell Don that it wasn't his fault. He always burdened himself.

"Don, you were exhausted, all of us were. I'm not surprised you didn't hear the cell."

Don rubbed his forehead. "The rest areas? Did we get the calculations?"

"Don-"

"The rest areas," he said firmly – almost pleadingly – and Megan sighed in defeat.

"Agent Singer already marked them on the map in the conference room. Charlie calculated eight possible market places. We're currently watching them. Maybe we'll catch one of the higher-up dealers."

"Good," Don said.

"Colby, David and me are thinking that we should have Larry or Amita consulting for us."

"Amita?" Don asked. He laughed bitterly. "She can't, Megan. She's heartbroken. And I don't think that Larry can focus, either."

"But they're the only ones who understand Charlie's line of thinking. They should take a look at his link analysis. It's important that we catch the dirty LAPD cops, Don. JM's drugs are life threatening. We have to catch him and we have to find out who was protecting him."

"I know the stakes," Don answered sharply. He got up. "But we shouldn't burden Amita and Larry with it before Charlie's awake and we can be sure, that he didn't suffer brain damage, don't you think?" He left the office.

XXX

Alan wasn't sure whether he should let Amita sit with Charlie. He knew that she and Charlie had finally decided to date. However, he also knew that their first date had ended in a disastrous evening which had led Charlie to question his feelings.

Amita relieved him of the decision by nodding at him and saying that she would stay with Larry in the waiting room. Alan was following the nurse the way he'd already gone in the far too early morning. Huntington Hospital's ICU was a reminder of an appendectomy, Charlie had endured years ago after ignoring the pain for too long. And it reminded him of his father who had died here.

Alan entered the room by passing by the nurse and rubbed his chin when he saw his son. Charlie was pale. He was resting as he'd been this morning when Alan and Don had been allowed to see him for a few minutes - his face turned towards the door. But Alan couldn't help but think that his expression had changed.

He seemed to be more peaceful. But this couldn't be. The doctor had told him that Charlie had regained consciousness for a short time after the operation in Recovery and that he was sleeping ever since. The trauma his body had gone through was too big.

Alan was glad that his son was still unaware as long as it meant that he wouldn't have to endure the cutting pain his body was trying to manage and that was penetrating even through the pain medication. He went to the bed and sat on the chair. He didn't have much time and he wanted to use ever minute he got. His hand brushed a few errant curls from Charlie's forehead. Charlie's left leg was plastered and resting on a cushion. Under the hospital gown, Alan could make out the bright white of bandages which were consolidating the broken ribs. The left hand was broken and covered in a plaster, the palms of both hands hidden beneath band-aids to cover up the cuts and abrasions. There was a band-aid above the right eye. Alan knew that another cut he couldn't see had been sewn at the back of the head.

There where the fractured skull was, a band-aid barely concealed the suture at the hairline. Alan carefully took Charlie's left hand, wanting contact with his son. Charlie frowned.

"Charlie?" Alan asked, surprised.

"Dad," Charlie whispered, opening his eyes a little.

Alan pushed the call button. "Hello there. How are you feeling?" he asked gently.

"Dad?"

"Yeah," Alan answered.

Charlie swallowed. "'at happened?" he asked. He squinted.

The door opened and the nurse entered. "Mister Eppes?"

"He's awake," Alan said.

She nodded. "I'll call the doctor."

Alan addressed Charlie. "You were in an accident."

Charlie frowned as if he was trying to concentrate. "Dad … 'at happened?"

"You were in an accident," Alan repeated, trying to suppress panic spreading in his every limb. "Charlie, you rode your bike and … you were hit by a car."

"Not right," Charlie muttered, looking around, "Dad …"

He coughed and Alan bent over him.

"It's okay," he said.

Dr. Brody entered. "Hello, Dr. Eppes," he said with a warm smile, "how are you?"

Charlie stared at him in confusion. "Tired," he muttered finally.

"That's alright," Brody said, "You went through a lot."

Charlie closed his eyes. Brody checked the machines surrounding him. "Dr. Eppes?" he asked. Charlie didn't answer. Brody nodded. "He's asleep. Don't worry, that's not unusual because we're giving him strong medication."

"He was confused," Alan voiced his worries.

"He's feeling the after effects of the anaesthesia, Mr. Eppes, and his body's recovering form a severe trauma." Brody smiled in assurance. "Believe me, he's doing okay. Confusion's something that's to be expected after surgery."

"What about the possible brain damage?"

"At this point we shouldn't judge Charlie's behaviour. In the afternoon, he's going to get a bed in the Neurology. Give it time until this evening. Then we'll worry."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**3.**

Amita rubbed her eyes. "This is a nightmare," she said and Larry put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sure he'll be fine." But one could see the deep worry for his former student on his face.

Amita shook her head. "I know. It's just …" She didn't want to say it. The last words she and Charlie had exchanged - private words - had been hurtful - for both of them. Both weren't sure what they were feeling at the moment and that hurt.

It seemed silly to Amita to let one date dictate their relationship. On the other hand, they hadn't been able to talk about anything other than work and that couldn't be right ... and now, Charlie was lying in ICU and nothing was right anymore.

Larry tipped his head in question when Amita looked at him hesitantly and she sighed. "What about brain damage, Larry? I don't want to think about it but …" She hesitated.

Larry nodded in understanding. "You should think about it," he said sadly.

"Charlie's brilliant. What if he … can't even tie his shoe laces in the end? That would be …" She got up and crossed her arms, walking towards the window to look down on the traffic. Rain was hitting against the glass.

"Charles is stubborn," Larry said behind her, "He'll pull through."

Amita sighed. "I hope so," she said.

XXX

When Don entered the neurological ward in the evening, Amita and Larry were heading towards the elevators.

"Hey!" he said. Relieved, he noticed that both of them seemed to be calm. That meant that Charlie's condition couldn't have changed to the worse. Another positive point was the fact that the doctors had moved him from the ICU to the neurological ward.

Amita seemed exhausted, but she was smiling. "Hey!" She looked back towards Charlie's room before she crossed her arms. "He's still sleeping. Your father's with him. Larry and I are heading to CalSci – I'll cover Charlie's classes for the time being. Larry's going to talk to the dean. Charlie was scheduled to represent CalSci on a convention next week and Larry was the one to recommend him. They'll need to find someone new to go there."

Don nodded. "Okay, good."

Amita hesitated for a moment. "They still don't know if he …" She stopped, pressing a trembling hand on her lips. Don pulled her into his arms. He knew that the things between here and Charlie were difficult at the moment - although he couldn't comprehend why since he'd had some really good relationships after a disastrous first date.

But he also knew that Amita meant a lot to Charlie and it was plain to see that she was reciprocating his feelings. As soon as Charlie felt better, he would take care that he and Amita tried a second date. She pressed her face to his shoulder and he felt her trembling.

"It'll be okay. You'll see." He gave a assuring smile to Larry over her head. The older man had crossed his arms and a hand was cupping his cheek, a typical gesture expressing his anxiety.

"Larry, the LAPD sent Charlie's personal belongings to me this afternoon. I went through his backpack but most of his stuff doesn't make any sense to me. I want to make sure that I don't miss something that has to do with my case. Could you come by the FBI tomorrow?"

"Sure, Don. I have a class at ten, but I can come by after," Larry answered.

Amita wiped her eyes, pulling away from Don. "I could come, too. I have to take over Charlie's office hours. I could come by after and we could drive to the hospital together."

They smiled and Larry and Amita then headed for the elevator after a short farewell. Don sought out the right room and entered.

"Donnie," Alan said with a warm smile.

Don was infinitely relieved when Charlie turned his head and looked at him. A weak smile curled his lips. "Don," he said softly.

His voice was rough and weak, but he was awake and talking and that was everything Don wanted for now. "Hey, buddy!" the agent smiled, sitting down on the edge of the bed carefully, "You're awake."

"Woke up a few minutes ago," Alan answered.

Charlie nodded weakly. Then he frowned. "What are you doing here?"

Don smiled. "You want me to leave?"

Charlie shook his head no, grimacing when the movement was aggravating his headache. "You were here fast. Your work …"

"You were asleep the whole day, Charlie," Don answered with a serious expression, "And the case can wait. I'm not working on it alone. How are you feeling?"

"As if I was hit by a car," Charlie answered. Don tried a smile, but it seemed to be rather forced, because Charlie closed his eyes. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Don answered.

"I can't remember the accident. I …" Charlie stopped. Don smiled. Charlie seemed to be weak, but aware of his surroundings.

There was just one more question left unanswered. "Charlie, what's the root of 3209?"

Charlie frowned. "What?"

Don tried not to let his unease show when Charlie hesitated. "Just tell me." He pulled out his cell to use the integrated calculator.

Charlie sighed. "56,64-"

"Alright," Don interrupted with a smile, nodding at Alan.

"Happy now?" Charlie asked.

"You have no idea," Don answered.

Charlie smiled and closed his eyes. He looked tired all of a sudden. "Donnie," he muttered.

"Hm?" Don's forefinger stroked Charlie's back of the hand.

"I'm glad you're okay."

Alan frowned in confusion and looked at Don who shook his head. He realized that Charlie had dropped off to sleep. "Yesterday, there was a raid. We didn't talk after and … he was worried."

Alan nodded in understanding.

"So … no brain damage?" Don asked.

Alan shook his head. "They're doing some tests tomorrow, but … I think it looks good."

Don smiled. "Great."

XXX

He leant back in his armchair, staring at the blind tv screen. A LAPD file was lying in front of him on the coffee table. The phone in his hand seemed to be heavier than it actually was. Like always when he had to tell bad news. "He's alive," he said.

JM let out an irritated sound. _"What's so hard in hitting someone with a car, huh?"_

He swallowed, nodding. "I'm sorry."

"_Yeah, well, that doesn't help me,"_ JM answered.

"I'll try to kill him this evening," he said.

"_No,"_ JM answered, _"Just let him be for the moment. It has to look like an accident. I hope, you managed to hurt him."_

"He's hurt pretty bad."

"_Will he be able to work?"_

"Not at the moment."

"_And your position in Eppes' team is secure?"_

He hesitated.

"_Answer me,"_ JM hissed and he flinched.

"Sure. Nobody suspects a thing. They're still convinced that the dirty cops are to be found only in the LAPD."

"_Good,"_ JM answered, _"keep an eye on the professor. As soon as he can so much as add two and two, I want to know. Until then, you're keeping your head down. It'll be easier to get to him when everybody thinks that this was an accident."_

"Did you get the calculations the professor did?"

"_Yes. We're not using those rest areas at the moment."_

"So he was right?" That surprised him. He hadn't believed that Eppes' little brother would be of help.

That he was right with the rest areas JM was using as market places meant that Eppes' team had been right.

JM was silent for a moment. _"Focus on your job."_ He hung up.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**4.**

It was noon before Larry finally arrived in the office. Don got Charlie's rucksack out from under his desk and went with the professor into the conference room. Ballpoint pens, pencils, memo pads, car keys, exams ... Don spread the contents of Charlie's rucksack on the conference table and looked at Larry who was immediately targeting the memo pads.

Don switched on Charlie's laptop. The device was slightly damaged, the screen was a little crooked and there was a crack showing in it, however, it was still working.

"Cognitive Emergence Theory," Larry said, putting two of the memo pads aside before taking the third.

"Amita's checking Charlie's office?" Don asked.

Larry nodded. "Yes, at the moment, she's taking over his office hours. After that, she will look for his notes. If she finds something, she'll bring it here."

"Great. Charlie was working on a link analysis for us to find dirty cops in the LAPD who get paid by JM."

Larry nodded. "I know."

"If Charlie had a lead, we have to know," Don answered, "Dad's at the hospital. The tests got delayed and it will take a while. I was thinking about giving you and Amita a ride when I'm heading over later today."

Larry nodded. He thumbed through the notes. "I think I got something," he said, "But these calculations are pretty rough. The refined versions should be in his office."

Don pushed the laptop in his direction. "Check the laptop."

XXX

A phone call with his father confirmed to Don that Charlie was still undergoing the series of tests which should make sure that his brain was okay. A short time later, Amita arrived with her rucksack and a bag in which she was carrying notes and files from Charlie's office. "I wrote everything down I found on his blackboards," she explained, sitting down next to Larry. She seemed much more determined and calm than the evening before and Don suspected that it had something to do with being useful. "Looks as if he was close to find the dirty cops."

"How close?" Don asked.

"I'll have to go through the notes. Give me half an hour," Amita said and Don nodded. He left the two scientists to their devices and returned to his and Agent Hitchcock's team who were gathered around Colby and David's cubicle.

"Looks as if Charlie may have found something before his accident," Don explained. Tom Hitchcock raised his eyebrows, sceptical.

"How is Dr. Eppes?" Tanja asked and Don nodded.

"He's conscious. He's having some tests done at the moment, but it looks like he might have been lucky."

Colby sighed. Relief was plainly to see on his face. "His head's harder than I thought," he smiled, "Must have to do something with the size of the brain."

David laughed. "Really? Remind me to buy you a helmet, Colby."

The young agent rolled his eyes. "Funny, man."

Megan laughed.

"Could we return to topic?" Hitchcock asked.

"Sure," Don answered, glaring at Colby in warning who was looking darkly in Hitchcock's direction.

Tom looked at his youngest agent. "Mirren."

The young man nodded. "So far, nothing from the rest areas Dr. Eppes found for us."

"That doesn't surprise me," Tom said. Colby's eyes narrowed.

Don, who had spend almost his whole life defending Charlie, just sighed. "We should keep the observation for now."

"I think so, too," Mirren said. "Boss," he then addressed Hitchcock, "even if Dr. Eppes hadn't found those rest areas we would keep an eye on them. We all know how perfect those places are for dealing."

Tanja and Sandra nodded in affirmation.

"We should at least try, sir," Sandra said.

"Eppes is the leading investigator," Hitchcock said, raising an eyebrow, "He decides."

Don ignored the challenging tone, instead focusing on the case file in his hands. "We keep the observation," he nodded, "Okay. Get back to work."

XXX

Alan had always felt a little helpless concerning Charlie. His youngest had always been more attached to Margaret when he was a child and even as a teenager - when Don spent as much time as possible outside the house – he'd adored his mother.

Alan had always blamed Charlie's genius. His youngest had always had difficulties in adapting and finding friends.

Mostly because the people around him were much older than him. The time Margaret had spent with Charlie in Princeton had denied Alan to bond with his son and it had been that time, that the relationship with Charlie had suffered the most.

And although, meanwhile, Charlie and he could got along much better, he was still unsure whenever Charlie had a problem or didn't feel good.

"Dad," Charlie said softly.

Alan looked up from his crossword puzzle. "Hello. You're awake," he said.

Charlie had fallen asleep half an hour ago, completely drained by the tests performed in the morning.

"Did Don leave?" Charlie asked.

Alan nodded and Charlie bit his lower lip, turning his head away. Alan noticed a hint of sadness in Charlie's expression before he turned away. The oldest Eppes frowned. "What's wrong?"

Charlie shook his head. "Nothing."

In moments like this, Alan wanted Margaret back more then anything. Charlie had always opened up to her.

He closed his eyes. "I'm going to sleep for a little while."

"Okay," Alan answered. He took Charlie's hand.

"Dad?" Charlie asked softly.

"Hm?" Alan answered.

"How long will it take?"

Alan brushed his thumb over Charlie's eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Charlie didn't answer. He was asleep.

XXX

David sighed, spinning his chair around to face Colby's back. "Let it go, man."

Colby turned around, too, and now they were able to look at each other. "Hitchcock's been doing nothing but criticizing and ridiculing Charlie since we started working the case together. Sometimes even when Charlie's with us. I don't like it."

"I don't like it, either," David answered, raising his hands in defence, "But there's nothing we can do, Colby." He turned back around to his computer. "Besides … do I have to remind you of your behaviour when you joined the team?"

"I was never like that," Colby disputed. David looked over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows sceptically. Colby ducked his head, spinning around to his desk. It was true that he hadn't believed that Charlie could help them at the beginning. But he'd changed.

And the thought that somebody didn't respect Charlie was irritating him. He wasn't just a member of the team but Colby's friend - somebody, in whose house they'd eaten together, with whom they'd played basketball and for whose wellbeing Colby had been responsible in the field whenever it hadn't been possible for Don to look out for his brother.

Colby glanced darkly across the bullpen towards Hitchcock's cubicle. Nobody talked badly about Charlie. Not as long as Colby was in the room.

XXX

Amita massaged her temples and looked up at Larry who was concentrating on Charlie's laptop. Alan had called to let them know that the tests had been finished and that Charlie would be up for visitors after he would have gotten some sleep. Don, Larry and her had decided to drive to the hospital together as soon as Don was back from a briefing with the AD.

Amita only noticed that Larry was looking questioningly at her when he cleared his throat. She shrugged his concern off and concentrated on Charlie's handwritten notes again but Larry had to have seen that she was having a problem because he asked, "What's the matter?"

"What?" Amita shook her head. "Everything's fine." She pasted on a smile.

"I can see that you are disturbed," Larry answered.

Amita sighed deeply. "I just think that it's weird."

"What in particular?" Larry asked.

"The accident." Amita leant forwards as if she wanted to tell Larry a secret. "I know the road Charlie took last night. It's pretty big. Charlie got hit on the right lane."

She looked at Larry with meaning and he folded his hands.

"So, you think that cause and effect are not fitting together?"

"He got hit on the right lane," Amita repeated, "Why did they find him next to the left?"

XXX

Don left the elevator on the neurological ward, Larry and Amita following him, and frowned. "The file on the accident? Why would you want the file on the accident?"

"Cause and effect," Larry replied and because of the rather cryptic answer, Amita explained, "Something's not right, Don. We just want to check something."

He glanced at her questioningly before he continued to search for the right room.

"We want to run some numbers."

He shrugged. "Sure. I'll get the file for you first thing tomorrow."

"Thanks," Amita answered.

"And you are sure that Charlie didn't find the dirty cops?" Don asked, stopping in front of Charlie's room.

Amita shook her head. "He ran into walls. His calculations are a bit of a mess."

Larry explained, "It's as if he wasn't sure that the data you gave him was correct. He didn't come to a solution."

"But you could continue looking for it?"

"As soon as we know where his problem was, yeah," Amita answered, "But maybe he can even do it himself."

Don shook his head. "He needs rest. Doctor Cummings doesn't want him to do math in the next few days. Besides, he's still on medication so his concentration should be a mess and doing the calculations in this state would frustrate him. But I think you could ask him where his problem was and take it from there." He opened the door to Charlie's room and entered.

He immediately saw that Charlie was awake when his brother turned his head and looked at him. His eyes were tired and dark rings were under them but they lit up with joy when he saw him. "Don," he muttered, "you're back."

Don nodded, slightly confused. "Sure," he answered, stepping aside to show Amita and Larry in, "And I brought visitors."

"Larry," Charlie smiled before he looked at Amita, "Hi."

She smiled. "Hey! It's good to see you awake."

He nodded hesitantly, confusion marring his face. "Uh … thank you." He looked at his blanket and Amita crossed her arms. She and Charlie had only spoken on a professional level since their unsuccessful date a couple of days ago. Both of them had been disappointed about the evening and it seemed as if Charlie was reacting with a retreat, now. Amita feared that he wanted to ignore their private relationship. She knew from her own experience that Charlie had difficulties with social contacts. It was easy to make him uncertain and he distanced himself whenever it happened.

Charlie was tracing the stripe pattern on the blanket with his fingers. "Dad … I …"

Don felt as if he'd been slapped when Charlie whispered, "When will mom be here?"

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**5.**

Don ran a frustrated hand through his hair, walking restlessly through Charlie's room, while Dr. Cummings sat down on the edge of Charlie's bed. "Do you know what year it is, Charlie?"

The young man glanced uncertainly at Don, then at Alan, Amita and Larry who were standing near the window, looking at him in shock.

"1997?" Charlie asked uncertainly, causing Don to curse. Charlie looked at him as if he'd been slapped.

"Agent Eppes, please," Doctor Cummings said and Don nodded.

"Okay, fine."

Dr. Cummings jotted something down in Charlie's file. "We have 2005, Charlie."

Charlie closed his eyes and shook his head. "That can't be true."

"What is the last thing you remember?" Doctor Cummings asked.

Charlie swallowed, massaging his temples. His hands were shaking. "I don't know."

"Try to remember," Doctor Cummings encouraged him gently. Charlie looked imploringly at Alan. His father stepped up to him and put a calming hand on Charlie's shoulder. He himself felt anything but calm. Just like Don, he was shocked, but while his oldest son let everyone see his frustration, Alan was trying to stay calm for Charlie's sake. His youngest son seemed confused and anxious. He glanced at Amita again and again as if he didn't know what to think of her and Alan knew that the two hadn't even met in 1997 yet. Or she had just been one of his many students.

"Mom took a flight to San Francisco to visit Aunt Jill." Charlie looked at Alan. "Right?"

Alan shrugged helplessly.

"I … was working on my syllabus and …" He smiled at Dr. Cummings nervously. "You know, this semester's the first time I'll be teaching at CalSci." He looked at Don. "You shouldn't be here. You told Mom that you couldn't visit before summer." His eyes caught Larry's. "You should be at Princeton and teach." Panic crept into his eyes. "If mom's not in San Francisco, where is she?"

Dr. Cummings got up. "Charlie, I'll borrow your family for a minute, okay? A nurse will be here soon to give you something to let you sleep." She nodded at Charlie and left the room. Alan followed her immediately while Don looked back to Amita and Larry. Larry nodded at him to confirm that they would stay with Charlie. When Don stepped outside and closed the door, a nurse was standing next to Dr. Cummings, receiving orders. She nodded at the doctor and headed for the nurse room. Doctor Cummings led Don and Alan a couple of steps down the corridor. "Charlie's suffering from a retrograde amnesia."

Don put his hands on his hips. "He's remembering us," he said.

"A complete amnesia," Doctor Cummings explained, "is possible, but most of the time, it's caused by a psychological trauma. Charlie's suffering from various physical traumas. Most patients lose the memories of the things that happened immediately before the trauma. That's why we weren't alarmed when Charlie couldn't recall being in an accident. But there are cases, where patients lose their memories of a part of their life. Sometimes weeks, months or – like Charlie – years."

"How do we make him remember?" Don asked.

Dr. Cummings shook her head. "It's not as easy as pushing a button, Agent. You can't underestimate what an amnesia means. It would be a big help if his mother could come here. He's asking for her."

Don turned away and Alan explained, "She's dead."

"When did that happen?" Doctor Cummings asked.

"Almost two years ago. She had cancer."

"When was it diagnosed?"

Don turned to his father. "Dad, the first time was …"

"1997," Alan answered, "She was feeling well after a few rounds of chemo but in 2002, the cancer returned."

"And I moved back to LA," Don nodded.

"Well, it's not unusual, that amnesia erases traumatic or tormenting memories."

"What should we do?" Don asked.

"Don't force him to remember. Talk to him, but don't expect him to suddenly remember everything. There's always a chance that he won't remember certain things even after you told him. Answer his questions, but don't do much more than that. He could end up feeling overly overwhelmed."

"But he will remember, right?" Alan asked.

"Maybe he will. Maybe not."

Don snorted.

"Listen," Doctor Cummings tried to calm them, "we don't know much about the human brain. Listen to what I told you. There's a chance that Charlie will regain his memories."

"And if he doesn't?" Don asked.

XXX

Amita and Larry were still standing at the window when Don and Alan returned to Charlie's room. Charlie watched the nurse checking his monitors and took a sleeping pill from her. He swallowed the tablet with a drink of water. Don cleared his throat. "Amita, Larry, could you …" He didn't want to chase the two away. But he didn't want them to be there for the news Don and Alan had to give Charlie either. The two seemed to understand that the family had to have some alone time and nodded. Amita almost looked a little relieved. They bid their goodbyes to Don and Alan, then to Charlie, before they left. The nurse followed them, leaving the Eppes alone. Charlie relaxed a little when they were gone. Don assumed that it was due to Amita. She had to be a foreigner to Charlie and who wanted to have strangers around him who expected one to know them?

Charlie smiled a little. "I think mom was right, then. I shouldn't ride my bike at night."

"Yeah," Don answered, forcing a smile. He sat down at the end of Charlie's bed while Alan preferred the chair. "How are you feeling?" Don asked.

"Confused," Charlie answered, "You shouldn't have come here just on my account."

"I'm living in LA, Charlie," Don answered.

His brother seemed to be surprised. "Oh," he said.

Don put a hand on Charlie's shin. "Besides," Don added, "there's no place I'd rather be."

He smiled a little and Charlie answered with an insecure smile of his own.

"So …" He took a breath. "Did I get hit on the head?"

This was a part of Charlie Don knew. Assessing the situation, analytically.

"More than once," Alan answered.

"2005," Charlie said thoughtfully, "That means that mom's not in San Francisco."

Don swallowed, shaking his head. He saw his father closing his eyes and cleared his throat. "Charlie …" He stopped.

Charlie looked at him questioningly, then to his father. "What?" he asked, worried. He fixed his look at Alan but Don changed his focus to himself with a touch to Charlie's hip. He knew that his father couldn't tell Charlie about his mother's death. Don breathed deeply. He had told Charlie once, he would be able to do it once again.

His chest nevertheless felt tied up. For a moment, he remembered Charlie standing in the garage almost two years ago - aghast and pale with chalk dust smeared on his black t-shirt and in his dark hair - after Don had told him that Margaret Eppes had passed away.

"Mom's dead, Charlie."

His brother looked at him uncomprehendingly. Then, he gasped and pressed his not plastered hand on his lips. "Dead?" he asked, "But how …"

"She had cancer," Don answered. He could see that Charlie was holding back tears with effort. Alan's hand found its way into Charlie's hair and he leant on the bed to press a comforting kiss onto Charlie's forehead.

Charlie apparently wasn't even aware of him. He blinked and wiped tears from his eyes. "Mom's not dead."

"Charlie-"

"I talked to her just yesterday."

"Charlie-"

"You're lying."

Don got up and turned away. Alan got up of his chair and took a seat on the edge of the bed instead.

"Mom's not dead," Charlie said desperately. He stared pleadingly at Alan. "Mom's not dead, right?"

Alan nodded sadly, brushing a few errant curls out of Charlie's forehead. "She died. Almost two years ago."

Charlie sobbed, grabbing for his father and Alan helped him to sit up, pulling him into an embrace. "Shh," he said. Don shook his head and left the room abruptly. The door slammed shut behind him and he kicked the wall before he brushed a frustrated and angry hand through his hair.

Hesitantly, a woman spoke up behind him. "Mr. Eppes?"

He turned around to a young nurse who was looking at him with uncertain, blue eyes. She brushed a couple of strands of brown hair from the forehead and smiled. "My name's Charlotte Wyatt. I'm working in the Emergency Room. I was there when your brother arrived yesterday."

Don rubbed his forehead. The name Wyatt wasn't new to him. "You called me," he said and Charlotte nodded. Don sighed. "I'm sorry, I'm …" He shook his head. "What can I do for you?"

She pulled a note out of her scrubs' breast pocket. "I wanted to give it to you yesterday, but then I got caught up with another patient and it took a while. Your brother told me something in the Emergency Room. I'm not sure what it means but …" She handed Don the note. "I wrote it down. Sometimes, patients tell something about their attacker or the one who caused the accident. But he was really confused."

Don enfolded the note.

_Beta 13 48 Omega 83_

He frowned. "What does that mean?" he asked.

Charlotte shrugged. "He said it and then he told me to call the FBI. But, as I said, he was confused."

Don nodded in understanding. "Thanks, though," he said, putting the note into his pocket. It had to mean something when Charlie had said it. He would show it to Larry and Amita. Charlotte nodded at him and turned away. Don watched her go until she'd arrived at the elevator, then he straightened his shoulders and went back into Charlie's room. Alan was still holding his youngest but Charlie was quiet. His head was resting on Alan's shoulder and he was breathing deeply.

"He's asleep," Alan whispered, "The pill knocked him out a minute ago."

"It's better that way," Don answered softly and Alan nodded. Don rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry for just leaving."

Alan tucked Charlie in, tucking the blanket around his still body. "It's okay, Donnie."

"No, dad, it's not. It's just … he reacted more emotional than a few years ago. I don't know …" He stopped, shrugging.

Alan picked his jacket up off the chair, stepping up to Don. "We should let him sleep." He put a hand on Don's shoulder, steering him towards the door.

XXX

Colby stared at Don, utterly dumbstruck. "Are you kidding? Nothing?"

Don shook his head and, stirring his coffee, sat at one of the tables in the break room. "The last thing he remembers is preparing his syllabus for his first semester as a professor at CalSci. 1997."

David sat down opposite him while Colby leant against the bar, shaking his head in disbelieve. David warmed his hands at the cup. "What are you going to do now?"

"The doctor told us this morning that they could treat Charlie medicinal, but she wants to wait with that. His memory might return as soon as his body and his head in particular have recovered from the trauma." Don sipped his coffee. "I'll ask Megan to talk to him. Doctor Cummings thinks that talking to a therapist might be a good idea. Unfortunately, he hates therapy."

Colby shrugged. "But he knows Megan. That has to be …" He shook his head. "Don't. I just found the fault with that idea."

David rolled his eyes in Colby's direction with a grin, then he grew serious. "How's Charlie handling it?"

Don sighed deeply. "Dad's with him. Charlie's not doing so good. He's confused and insecure. As if he's afraid to say the wrong thing and trigger a verbal landmine, so he doesn't talk much at all."

The looks Charlie threw him were worse. Don remembered the state of their relationship in 1997- it had been anything but good. He'd enjoyed the freedom to have found a job he loved. Of not living in his brother's shadow any more. They had hardly spoken with each other.

The distance had started when they'd attended college. Don had always been too busy to call and, when he called, then usually at a time when Charlie hadn't been home. Sometimes with the intention to avoid talking to him. He hadn't been proud of it. But his brother had become a stranger to him during Don's time with the _Stockton Rangers_ and Princeton. Charlie was wrapped up in his academic world and of course he'd been a success there. Don wasn't. He'd discovered that he would never become a good player - never good enough for the big games. He'd felt like a failure whenever he spoke with Charlie. Mathematical ideas always had come to Charlie fast like lightning but Princeton had given him a forum and the desire to talk about it with everybody. Don didn't want to tell him not to talk about mathematics - about the latest feeling of success, the newest interview, the latest theory - therefore he'd preferred to avoid him completely. And this habit had been hard to break when he began working for the FBI. Plus, his job with Fugitive Recovery had put him into a situation where he had been always on the road and the time for private calls had been sparse. He shook his head. "What's new?"

David answered, "Nothing from the rest areas Charlie gave us. Amita's been here since an hour, running his numbers a second time. She's trying to find the five most probable market places for us, because we have to remove our guys from the rest of them."

Don cursed softly. "Charlie was wrong?" He couldn't believe this. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **I'm really touched by all those reviews I'm getting. I didn't expect that. :) So, thank you all! And just so you know: I'll be out of town for the weekend. The next update will be on Monday.

**6.**

"Hey, Amita!" Don said when he entered the conference room with a file in his hand.

She turned away from the whiteboard to smile at him. "Hey!"

"Do me a favour?"

She nodded.

"Calculate those rest areas, starting from scratch."

Amita frowned. Don was more serious than the day before. Since Charlie felt a little better - except for the amnesia -, it couldn't be because of him. Amita noticed how tense the agent seemed to be.

"What? But the calculations are correct."

Don raised a hand and she stopped.

"Just do it and add a new variable when you're at it – let's say somebody knew which rest areas we were going to put surveillance on."

Amita pushed the cap on the pen, walking towards Don who was leaning against the conference table.

"You're searching for dirty cops, but nobody from the LAPD could have known that you were going to observe those rest areas."

"Yeah, I'm still working on that part," Don answered.

"You think it could have been someone from the FBI."

Don shrugged. "I don't know."

"Any suspects?" Amita asked.

Don pulled a face. "It's too early to say something," he said.

"You think it was someone from the team," Amita deduced.

Don crossed his arms. "Not my team, that's for sure." He sighed. "Just do it and pretend that JM knows where we're searching for him."

Amita nodded, stepping to the whiteboard to erase her equations.

"And do me another favour, don't tell anyone."

"You got it," Amita answered, "Should I work somewhere else?"

Don shook his head, smiling. "Nobody gets what you are doing with those equations. It shouldn't be a problem for you to work here." He handed her the file. "The file you asked for."

A little hesitantly, Amita reached for the folder and opened it. Her eyes caught on the protocol and she leafed through the LAPD's records before she came upon the photos. Charlie's bicycle was destroyed. Only a bent mess of metal. She swallowed, closing the file.

"I don't know what you and Larry are looking for," Don said.

Amita looked up to him. "We want to check something," she said.

"What?" Don asked.

Amita bit her lower lip, pressing the file against her chest. She didn't want to tell him about the suspicion she and Larry had - that the accident maybe hadn't been one. Don was always a little too worried about Charlie and she didn't want to upset him without reason. Not until she had proof.

"Amita, Charlie's my brother. Tell me."

She sighed in defeat. "We're not sure if the accident was an accident."

Don's eyes widened in shock. "What?"

"It could have been an attack."

"An attack?", Don echoed, "Somebody hit Charlie with a car intentionally?"

"We don't know. We want to check."

"Okay," Don said, "Then do it now."

"What about the rest areas?"

"If someone is after Charlie, I want to know. As fast as possible," Don answered.

"Okay. I'll head over to CalSci and get Larry started on that accident analysis. I can finish the calculations for the rest areas."

"Whatever," Don answered, heading for the door, "I want you to tell me if he could still be in danger. Without proof, I can't put an agent on him. Find something."

XXX

Larry reached for the phone on his desk and hesitated. Then he shook his head, starting to look for the memo pad in which he kept his contacts. He put the phone back on its cradle to root with both hands on his desk. Documents fell to the ground and Larry's eyes caught something red before it was buried by two large books. He knelt down and picked up the block with the red cover. He found the list and sat down on his chair again before he dialled. The phone rang only two times, before it was answered. _"Sinclair?"_

Larry had always liked David. He was much calmer than Colby. He didn't want to call Megan. He was afraid that he would be unable to utter a single sentence when he was talking to the pretty agent. And he couldn't call Don. It would only make Charles' brother nervous to hear his request.

"Agent Sinclair, this is Larry Fleinhardt … Charles' colleague."

"_I know. Hey, Doc, what's up?"_ Larry liked the way David was treating civilian consultants. If he was sceptical, he hardly showed it. He enquired, trying to understand.

"I was hoping that you could do me a favour," Larry said.

"_Sure, if I can. What is it you need?"_

"Recordings of a radar speed check."

"_To investigate the accident?"_ David asked.

"Correct," Larry answered, "I need the recordings of the street where the accident happened."

"_Doc, the camera has been checked. There is no photo of the car."_

"No?" Larry asked, frowning. He reached for a pencil and started to scribble formulas on the next best piece of paper he could find.

"_No. After accidents like this one, the radar cameras are checked to see if there's a photo of the car. But that night, no one in the vicinity was speeding. It's in the report. Don told me."_

"Hm," Larry answered.

"_Is there something else, Doc?"_

"No," Larry answered. There was a knock at his door and he looked up. Karen Walker, one of his female students, was there. He raised a hand and she nodded.

"No, I have everything I need." He hung up. "Miss Walker," Larry said, getting up, "would you care to help me with an experiment?"

She seemed to be confused. "I'm here for my test."

"We can talk about that on the way."

She shrugged. "Uh … okay."

XXX

Don's cell rang when he got out of his car. He stopped next to it, took off his sunglasses and watched the people who entered and left the hospital while he was answering. "Eppes?"

"_Hey, Don, this is Amita."_

"Hey!" he answered, "Is it about the accident?" He squinted into the sun, enjoying the warmth that had returned to LA after the last few days of rain.

"_No. We're still working on that. I calculated the rest areas you wanted. I wasn't sure if I should call the office or-"_

"It's alright," Don answered.

"_Okay, assuming JM knows that you are watching his usual market places, he'll use one of the rest areas at Fairland Drive."_

"Fairland Drive," Don repeated.

"_I'll send you the rest via e-mail, but I'm sure it's one at Fairland Drive – she's listed as number four."_

"Okay, thanks," Don answered, "I'm about to see Charlie. Should I tell him something?"

Amita was quiet for a moment. _"I don't know,"_ she said hesitantly.

"I could tell him when you'll be visiting him."

"_I don't know if I should see him,"_ Amita said.

Don frowned in confusion. "What? Why?"

"_He doesn't even know me,"_ Amita answered. Don leant against his car, rubbing his forehead. He didn't know what to say to that. Amita sighed. _"Listen, I … I'll come see him. I'm just …"_ She stopped.

"You should come. Amita, I'm not happy about the situation, either. The last thing he knows of me is me being unable to be alone with him for more than half an hour. He needs help."

"_I know,"_ Amita answered, _"I'll come by later."_

"Okay," Don answered.

"_Okay."_ She hung up. Don shook his head and dialled David's number to send him and Colby to Fairland Drive.

XXX

His father was no longer there when Charlie woke up, and in his place, Don was sitting in the chair next to the bed, reading the newspaper. His brother seemed tired and tense. Charlie had never liked this vibe coming from Don. He was reminded of his injuries when he reached for the cup with water on his bedside table and he moaned softly. Don looked up from the newspaper. "Hey, buddy!" he said. He put the newspaper down and handed him the cup. "How are you feeling?"

Charlie took a few sips of water to get lost of the dry feeling in his mouth. "I'm tired and nauseous because of the pain meds and moving hurts." He threw Don a weak smile. "Confused."

Don nodded in understanding. "You'll get through it. Don't worry."

"Where's dad?"

"Grabbing a bite."

"He shouldn't be here 24/7. He has to go to work."

"Charlie …" Don rubbed his forehead. Charlie suspected what he wanted to say.

"He's retired, right?"

"He's working on his own schedule," Don answered. Charlie sighed, a thoughtful expression entering his eyes. Don lifted a plastic bag onto the bed. "Brought you something."

Charlie smiled happily. "Presents?"

"Not really. Something to help you pass the time."

Charlie checked out the bag's contents, before he looked up at Don. "Chess?"

Don nodded. "Chess and some magazines."

"Thanks," Charlie answered. "Could you …" He stopped, shaking his head.

"What?" Don asked, "Tell me."

"Dad told me that I have a laptop." Charlie smiled uncertainly. "That's weird, since I … never had one. Well … as far as I remember."

Don forced a smile.

"Could you bring it here? Only if you want to, of course. I just thought that I could go through my current work. Maybe that'll help me remember."

Don shook his head. "Your laptop's a piece of evidence, Charlie."

His younger bother frowned. "My laptop's … my laptop?"

Don nodded.

"Because of the accident?"

"For me. For my case," Don answered.

"My laptop … for your case?" Charlie sighed. "You aren't in FR anymore, are you?"

"No," Don answered, "that was a long time ago." He pulled the chair closer to the bed, propping his arms on the mattress. "I'm having my own team here in LA. And you're working for me," he said. Then he shrugged. "Well, sometimes. Whenever we need your expertise."

Charlie couldn't avoid an enthusiastic smile. Sometimes, he helped the CIA or the NSA but he liked the fact that he was working together with his brother even more. "Sounds great."

Don returned the smile. "It is." He grew serious. "We're after that drug lord for months now - JM. You wanted to make a link analysis to find dirty cops in the LAPD. We know that JM's bribing some of them. But we don't know who."

"Okay."

"But it's difficult and you didn't have a lead, yet. Well, we asked for your help just last week. And you already fond the market places JM uses to sell his drugs to his dealers."

"Statistics and Brute Force analysis," Charlie guessed and Don nodded.

"With a smatter of risk analysis," he added.

"How did that work out?"

Don shrugged. "Not the way we wanted."

"Oh," Charlie said, clearly disappointed.

"But don't you worry about that," Don answered hurriedly, "We'll get JM. You should just rest."

Charlie shook his head. "I can't think straight, either way."

"I can't imagine that," Don grinned.

"Concussion," Charlie explained. He yawned. "And I'm constantly exhausted."

"Then get some sleep." Don messed with Charlie's hair, until his brother turned his head away.

"Get well soon." He sighed, watching Charlie drift off.

"Bro," he said softly and Charlie raised his eyebrows to show him that he was listening, "no matter what you'll remember … the two of us – we're okay. Promise."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**7.**

"How nice," Colby said, leaning against the hood of his car. The metal was hot and he grimaced. He and David had been waiting here at the _Fairdrive_ rest area for an hour now.

While David had disappeared in the gas station a couple of minutes ago to fetch water, a sports car had gone past Colby and had stopped under the tree.

Two young men were sitting in it, the radio blasting music.

A third man, a little older than Colby, had got out of a car on the opposite side of the street only a short time later and had welcomed the two men in the sports car. Now, they were standing in the shade of the tree, talking. Colby's instincts told him that they were the men they were looking for. JM's dealers.

He accepted the water-bottle David handed him. David unfolded the map of Los Angeles he'd bought in the gas station and studied it while Colby was taking a couple of sips. Then, he indicated the plan before pointing in the direction of the men standing at the edge of the rest area. "The two guys with the sunglasses belong together – JM's guys. The one with the jean jacket got out of the car over there – he's the buyer. One of JM's guys is carrying a gun, I think he's the bodyguard of the other one."

David frowned. "Brave."

Colby nodded. "They are."

"Let's keep an eye on them," David said, handing Colby the map, "Can you see the plate?"

Colby tried to see the license plate of the sports car beside which the men were standing, but he couldn't. "Too far away."

"Are we sure that it's them?" David asked, crossing his arms nonchalantly.

Colby was still acting as if he was reading the map. "The guy on the right wearing the glasses and the bandana … that's Freddy Tyson."

Freddy was one of JM's dealers.

"Well, aren't we lucky?" David nodded, "We're looking for him for weeks now."

Colby nodded, watching Freddy handing the buyer a rucksack.

"Drugs."

In return, he was handed an envelope whose content he checked before pocketing it.

"Money."

"Brave," Colby repeated, folding the map, "In plain sight." He got into the car. David dropped himself into the passenger seat. They observed the buyer crossing the road and getting into his car. Freddy and his companion climbed into the sports car.

"Let's see where they're going to lead us," Colby said, driving slowly towards the exit. He wanted the sports car to get a lead.

"Let's," David answered.

XXX

Tom Hitchcock was glaring at Don with a mixture of disbelieve and indignation. "You did _what_?"

Don put his hands in his hips, standing his ground. "I let Amita calculate the rest areas from scratch. She told me that she found something and Colby and David are currently tailing a suspect."

Megan bit her lower lip when Tom's eyes narrowed dangerously. Sandra and Tanja looked at each other and Simon Mirren massaged his forehead.

"Why?" Tom asked, crossing his arms.

"I think that JM got a warning. I asked Amita to take that into account."

"So, the rest areas your brother calculated for us are wrong. And instead of assuming that maybe he made a mistake you play the lone ranger?"

"I'm the lead agent."

"We're a team," Hitchcock answered, clearly upset, "What, did you think that one of us warned JM?"

Don shook his head. "I was just being careful. Megan, David and Colby didn't know of my plan, either, until Amita called me."

"So you did think that one of us warned him," Hitchcock nodded. Megan, Sandra, Tanja and Simon were watching the argument silently. Megan knew that it wouldn't help to try and stop the two men.

"Why would you even think that? Did your baby brother tell you not to trust us? Did he use some wacky equation that told him that we're the bad guys?"

Don narrowed his eyes. "What is this about? Is it about me not telling you or you not wanting civilian consultants in this?"

"It's about you leading the investigation how you see fit instead of working with a team. It was pure luck that the AD gave you the lead."

"But I'm leading the investigation," Don answered, "No matter what you think about it. And instead of fighting, we should be glad that Colby and David are tailing Freddy Tyson."

Tom glared at Don, shaking his head. "You're going to be sorry, Eppes. I promise you that." He left the conference room.

Don stared after him, then he relaxed a little, turning to Megan. He brushed through his hair. "Be honest."

She shrugged. "Well, he has a point."

Don sighed. "Yeah, I thought you would say that."

XXX

_Charlie entered his parental home in a hurry. "Dad? I left a blue folder here this morning. Did you …" He stopped in surprise when Don came from the kitchen, a beer in his hand. Charlie could see his father neither in the living room nor in the adjacent dining room. He brushed his hair out of his forehead with an insecure gesture. "Hey, Donnie!"_

"_I'm not seven years old anymore, Charlie." Don sat down at the head of the dining table and concentrated on the newspaper lying open in front of him. Charlie nodded, clenching his hands in the belt of his bag, his shoulders pulled up. He'd forgotten what he'd wanted here. Forgotten that he had to give a class in half an hour. Forgotten that he'd wanted to fetch his notes for it. Everything he saw was Don, after seven long weeks, simply sitting there as if it had never happened._

"_You …" _

_He didn't react to Charlie's voice. _

"… _have a day off?"_

_Don sipped at his beer. "Yeah," he answered, turning the page. Charlie came towards the dining table slowly, stopping next to Don's chair. And he missed their mother so bad right now it hurt._

"_I erased the chalkboards," Charlie said, not knowing why, "Did dad tell you that?"_

_Don let see a nod. Nothing else. Charlie sat down on the edge of the chair next to Don's. "I'm back to work."_

_Don shrugged. Charlie felt his hands tremble and supported his head in both of them, digging them into his hair to hide them. "Donnie-" _

"_I actually wanted to meet dad and get lunch with him. When is he coming home?" Don asked, staring at the newspaper as if there was nothing more interesting than the opening of the city's new swimming pool. _

_Charlie put a hand on the newspaper. "I'm really trying here. Didn't you get my messages?" _

_Don pulled the newspaper away and turned the page. "You want me to give you a golden star for that, Charlie?"_

"_No, I just want …" Charlie reached for the newspaper once more to take it away, but Don grabbed his hand, really looking at him for the first time – his face full of repressed anger. _

"_Don't," he said softly._

"_Then talk to me," Charlie pleaded desperately, "We didn't talk since … the funeral."_

_Don's grip tightened and Charlie grimaced in pain. "Donnie …"_

_His brother let him go and got up. The newspaper fell to the ground._

"_When is dad coming home?"_

_Charlie ducked his head to look at the table top. "I don't know. Maybe he's meeting Stan."_

"_Tell him I was here," Don said._

"_We could eat together," Charlie said. He could cancel the class._

"_I don't want to," Don answered, heading for the door._

"_Don, please!"_

_His brother turned around to face Charlie, his expression one of anger. "We needed you and you weren't there, Charlie. I don't care that Mom said she would understand. Dad can act like it never happened for all I care."_

"_It happened two months ago," Charlie said, "And I'm sorry."_

"_You know what, Charlie?" Don opened the door. "I don't care." _

Charlie opened his eyes and Alan smiled at him. "Hello there!"

"Hey!" he answered, shaken. He looked around his hospital room. The after-midday sun was shining through the window. "Don?"

"At work," Alan answered. He frowned. "You okay?"

Charlie shook his head. "I don't know."

"Are you in pain?" Alan reached for the call button but Charlie shook his head.

"Don't. I'm fine." Charlie massaged his temple. Had it been a dream or a memory?

Alan was looking at Charlie attentively, trying to read him. Charlie closed his eyes. He'd done something bad. Something that was connected to the death of his mother. But what? A hand found its way into his curls and a thumb brushed his eyebrow, calming him. And he remembered that Alan had always done this when Charlie had been ill or hurt. Sometimes even when he hadn't known what was wrong with Charlie. Whenever he saw that his youngest one was in despair or sad.

"It's okay, Charlie," Alan said softly.

_And suddenly, they were sitting on the ratty couch in the garage and Charlie was staring at chalkboards filled with calculations. And he recognized P versus NP at first sight. Alan's hand brushed through his hair, coming to rest on the back of his neck. "You know Donnie," Alan said in a soothing voice, "He'll come around." He sighed. "I'm gone for one afternoon …," he muttered. _

_Charlie nodded sadly. "Sorry. I know I promised not to do it again."_

_Alan got up. "Well, you managed to stop yourself," he answered, grabbing the eraser lying on one of the boards. He started to erase the numbers. "You gonna help me?" he asked. _

Charlie looked at Alan, undecided.

"You okay?" Alan asked.

Charlie nodded. "Yeah." He forced a smile. "Nightmare."

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**8.**

Freddy and the other man had disappeared into a house in the suburb. The area was neat and unobtrusive. Colby wondered whom the house belonged to because they'd already searched all the places Freddy could have hidden at weeks ago.

"Looks peaceful," David said, watching the neighbourhood.

"Yeah," Colby answered, "just like Wysteria Lane."

David looked at him in disbelief and Colby shrugged. "What? _Desperate Housewives_' always on when I get home from work."

David stifled a laugh and Colby rolled his eyes. "The show's good, you know."

David shrugged. "Right, Miss Granger."

"Could we focus on the case?" Colby asked.

David nodded. "Sure." He opened his car door. "Let's invite Mr. Tyson and his friend into our interview room."

The two men got out of the car and approached the house. David went to the front door while Colby crept into the garden. The garden was beautiful but not too hard to tend to. Colby pressed against the wall and crept towards the porch door, taking a look inside. He was looking directly into the living room. Nobody could be seen. He heard David calling, "Mr. Tyson, FBI!"

Colby saw a shadow going by the corridor and tensed. He stretched to take a look through the window above his head. He could see the front door, now. Freddy's companion opened it and spoke with David. Somebody crept by the corridor towards the porch door and Colby got ready. When Freddy opened the door and entered the garden quietly, Colby grabbed him, pushing him to the wall. "Leaving so soon?" he asked.

Only a couple of minutes later, Freddy and the other man were sitting in the back seat of David's car. David started the engine. "Running away from federal officers. I think we should talk."

Freddy answered with a dark look into the rearview mirror. David addressed Colby. "Are you watching _Grey's Anatomy_, too?"

XXX

His hand were shaking while he dialled the number and he pressed the disposable cell to his ear, keeping an eye on the traffic in front of the FBI headquarters.

"_Yes?"_ JM answered.

"It's me," he said, "We have a problem."

"_Yes, we do. Freddy and Kirk got arrested today,"_ JM answered, irritated.

He bit his lip. "Eppes decided not to be a team player. When I heard that he was placing surveillance on one of our rest areas it was already too late. He knows that there's something off. He suspects someone from the FBI could be the mole."

"_Well, you must've made a mistake."_

"No. He doesn't know that it's me. He's still looking for suspects, I think. But he knows that there's something wrong and that's enough for us to get worried."

JM stayed silent, thinking.

"I have to get out of there."

"_No. We need all of you there."_

Frustrated, he shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. "If they catch me-"

"_They won't. I'm already thinking of a solution. Don't worry about it. Just stay where you are and watch the agents. Report to me. And stay up to date on the professor. Don't be too obvious about it."_

"That's no problem. Eppes' team's pretty close. The other agents are asking for the professor and I can hear them."

"_Perfect."_ JM hung up.

He switched off the disposable cell and shoved it into his jacket pocket to get rid of it later on his way home. He wasn't in any danger at the moment, but he was worried about that changing soon. Eppes' mistrust had shown him that he shouldn't underestimate the agent.

XXX

"Hey!" Megan said when she entered the break room.

Don looked up from his coffee. "Hey!" He spooned sugar into his cup and stirring, sat down at one of the tables.

"How's Charlie?" Megan asked.

"He's in pain and tired out. He doesn't have the slightest idea what's been going on the last few years. Aside from that …" He shrugged.

"Okay, I get your point." She poured herself coffee.

Sandra Balin opened the door. "Agent Eppes, LAPD's on the phone."

He raised his eyebrows. "Why?"

"You should talk to them yourself," the agent explained and Don followed her back to her desk with Megan in tow. "Captain Henshall called me since neither Agent Hitchcock nor you were at your desks."

The young woman seemed to want to apologize, but Don just nodded.

"That's okay, Agent." He took the earpiece off the cradle. "Eppes?"

"_This is Captain George Henshall, LAPD. I was told you're the one investigating the JM case."_

"You got that right," Don answered.

"_You were observing some rest areas the last few days but couldn't get a hit."_

"Yes," Don answered.

"_We know why that is. We got an anonymous call. Someone told us that one of our officers gets paid by JM and that he warned him about the surveillance. We investigated and found some sms and e-mails going out to JM's guys. To be precise, to Freddy Tyson."_

Don gaped. "We arrested him today."

"_That's why I'm calling you,"_ Henshall answered, _"We want JM just as bad as you. The officer got arrested. He's already on his way to you." _

XXX

Officer Richard McTroy was sitting in one of the interrogation rooms, staring into space. Megan, who was in the observation room with Colby, crossed her arms. "He's totally calm."

Colby sipped his coffee. "What does that tell you?" he asked.

"If you were under suspicion to have been bribed by a well-known criminal wouldn't you be nervous?" Megan asked.

Colby nodded. "You think he's guilty."

"Whatever he's going to tell us – he's definitely guilty."

"But he's surprisingly calm. I mean, he could lose his job, maybe go to jail … I really hope Hitchcock's as good as he always says. JM's guys are not easy to get to talk."

Megan shrugged when Tom Hitchcock entered the interrogation room with McTroy's file.

"David and Don are talking to Freddy and Kirk?" Colby asked and Megan nodded.

"Yeah."

"Officer McTroy," Hitchcock said, nodding at the man, before he said down opposite him, "I'm Agent Hitchcock and I'm investigating against JM."

McTroy leant back in his chair, crossing his arms. Hitchcock remained calm and opened the file. "You got arrested today because there's evidence suggesting that you've been bribed by JM to inform him about investigations against him. We're talking about FBI surveillances on JM's market places where he trades with drugs. E-mails and sms have been found that suggest that you were paid by JM. Your bank account is currently being looked into to find unusual transfers.Do you have to say something to defend yourself?"

McTroy shrugged. "Nope, I'm a mole."

Colby laughed in disbelieve and Megan brushed through her hair. "That was fast."

Hitchcock seemed to be surprised, also. "Okay," he said, "Tell me how you did it."

"I was on patrol. I saw guys looking like federal agents on some of the rest areas. I kept an eye on them and noticed that they were wearing guns. I thought that it could be the FBI. I told Freddy Tyson and he told JM."

Hitchcock got up and put a legal pad and a pen on the table. "Write down your statement, please. It will be typed and brought to you to sign." He turned away and left. McTroy reached for the pen and started to write.

Colby looked at Megan. "He didn't even try to deny it."

"Yeah," Megan said, "weird."

XXX

"Freddy Tyson," Don said and the man in question raised his eyebrows in confusion, "You're working for JM."

"JM?" Tyson asked. He clasped his hands on the tabletop, staring innocently at Don who was standing on the opposite side of the table, Tyson's file in his hands. "I'm unemployed, man."

"You were in prison for drug smuggling, procuring and bodily injury."

"That was a long time ago," Tyson said, "I'm the perfect citizen now, man."

"Really?" Don asked, "Two of my agents saw you dealing drugs just this afternoon. There's evidence telling us that you were bribing an officer of the LAPD for information about investigations running against JM."

"What? Man, that's a mistake. I was just drinking beer with a friend in his house and suddenly, the FBI's there and arresting us. You're trying to frame me."

"Don't take the piss out of me!" Don answered loudly and Tyson squinted his eyes. Don propped his hands on the table. "There's an officer in this building attesting the fact that you were buying information about our investigations from him."

Tyson avoided Don's eyes and crossed his arms. "I won't say anything."

Don straightened up and forced himself to calm down. "We want to make a deal."

Tyson snorted in disgust.

"You tell us where JM is and you will be out of prison a lot sooner," Don suggested.

"In your dreams, superman," Tyson answered with raised eyebrows, "I'm innocent. No matter what that damn officer's telling you. He's lying."

"Be careful, Freddy," Don said, sitting down.

Tyson laughed mockingly. "Agent, I think you're the one who should be careful."

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**9.**

Alan watched his youngest staring at the chessboard, lost in thought. Charlie always had the same facial expression when something was bothering him. And this particularly depressed face told Alan that it had something to do with Don.

"Charlie?" he asked finally. He looked up, startled. "It's your turn," Alan said.

Charlie sighed. "Sorry."

"That's okay," Alan answered, "Are you alright?"

"I was just thinking," Charlie answered and smiled uncertainly, "I'm fine."

"Okay," Alan said, not really believing him. Charlie concentrated on the game for moment, taking his turn.

Alan raised an eyebrow. "You're not focusing," he said.

Charlie shrugged. "I'm a bit tired."

"That's okay," Alan said and smiled, "At least, that way I get to win for once." He took his turn. "Donnie will come by later."

Charlie looked at him and Alan just knew that he'd been right. "What's wrong, Charlie?" he asked.

Charlie bit his lip, then he put his head down on the cushion. "I'd like to take a nap."

"Don't let me bother you," Alan said. He cleared the chessboard away, while Charlie was slowly drifting off. Shaking his head, Alan reached for his newspaper and got down to the crossword puzzle.

XXX

AD Gerald Wright's office was set up brightly and friendly. A VanGogh copy hung on the wall behind the large wooden desk and a corner of the tabletop was taken by a bang coloured construct nobody could make sense of. Wright was always telling everyone that it had been handcrafted by his daughter before admitting that he didn't know what exactly it was, either. Wright himself was a stocky man in his late 40s, always dressed correctly, the short, grey hair always combed properly. Normally, he and Don were getting along just fine. However, when Don closed the door to Wright's office now, his stomach was in knots.

"Agent Eppes," Wright said, signalling him to come closer.

Don sat down in one of the comfy chairs. "You wanted to see me, sir?" He had a good idea what this talk would be about.

Wright signed off the papers laying on his desk before him, then he clasped his hands on them. "Agent Hitchcock was here. Is it true that you're accusing him of corruption?"

"Not really," Don answered. Wright raised his eyebrows in doubt. "Sir, I just didn't want anybody to know what I was planning."

"Have you got any evidence against anyone on the team?"

Don bit his lip. "No," he said rather reluctant.

"I understand the pressure you're under, Agent. It's a complicated case and your brother's in hospital. If you think that you can't handle the case-"

"I can handle the case."

Wright scrutinized him searchingly. Don nodded in assurance. "I can."

"Fine," Wright said, "Don't get me wrong, you're a great agent. I know how difficult Hitchcock can be. But you have to work together."

Don nodded. "Sure."

Wright nodded at him. "That's all for now, Agent Eppes."

Don got up, turning towards the door.

"Oh, Agent!" Wright said and Don looked at him questioningly, "Give Charlie my best, okay?"

Don nodded and left the office.

XXX

When Don came back to his desk, Amita and Larry were already waiting there. Amita was pressing her laptop to her chest and seemed to be worried. Larry was sitting on Don's chair, his head in his hands. Don knew the gesture as one with which Larry expressed concern. He accelerated his steps. Amita was the first to see Don coming.

"Don!" She met him halfway.

"Amita, what's the news?"

"It's Charlie," she said, "That wasn't an accident."

Don stared at her in alarm. "And you're sure about that?"

Colby, David and Megan had gotten attentive and were watching them in concern. Larry got up and slid his hands into the trouser pockets. "You can never be entirely sure where human nature is involved, Don."

The irritated glance the agent sent him made Larry reconsider his words. "As sure as we can be."

Don looked at David and Colby. "David, I want you in the hospital ASAP. Colby, you're relieving him tonight."

The two men nodded and David took his jacket and left. Megan got up from her chair. "How did you find out?"

Amita nodded towards the briefing room. "We'll explain," she suggested and left to prepare things.

Don nodded at Colby. "Summon Hitchcock's team."

Colby frowned. "But-"

"Charlie gets hit by a car while he's helping us out with a case involving the best known drug lord in LA?"

Colby raised his hands. "I see your point."

XXX

The laptop was projecting a picture of the scene of the accident on the wall. It was a total view of the road. It didn't look like a police photo and Don suspected that Larry or Amita had made it themselves. Neat houses were standing lined up on the right side of the road. A small wooded area which fenced off a park from the road extended next to the sidewalk on the left side. Cars were parked beside the sidewalks. Amita was standing in front of the wall, holding a laser pointer. Larry was sitting around the conference table with Agent Hitchcock's team, Don, Megan and Colby.

"A car hitting a body does so with a certain amount of force depending on the car's speed," Amita explained, "Thanks to the victim's position and injuries, we can determine how fast the car hitting him was going and how it hit him." She pointed to a place in the middle of the street. "Here, shattered glass was found and the police suspects that the accident happened here."

Larry explained, "The road's well-known for speeders. To prevent them from going that fast, the city installed two radar traps just last year – one trap for the right lane and one for the left."

Amita pointed out one of the radar traps down the road. Larry explained, "One of my students took that photo. She was standing beside the other radar trap."

Hitchcock raised his hand. "Why are you telling us that?"

Larry rested the fingertips of both his hands together, tapping his chin with his forefingers. "Because there wasn't anyone speeding in that street that night."

"Charlie's injuries imply that he was hit pretty hard. His head injuries are the main reason to suspect that," Amita said.

"But that's a paradox," Larry answered, "since the car would have had a speed of roughly 80 miles per hour. In that street, the upper limit is a speed of 30 miles per hour. The accident happened in between those radar traps. The driver couldn't have had a speed of 80 miles per hour without being caught by the traps. Our calculations say, it's just impossible."

Silence descended.

"Okay," Don said, slightly confused, "Why wasn't it an accident?"

Amita crossed her arms. "Because Charlie couldn't have been hit with more than 50 miles per hour. I think he was still conscious after the accident. And we think that he couldn't have been flung to where he was found." She pointed to the wooded area next to the street. "The force of impact was too small. And those parking cars are in the way. He would have been flung against one of them. In addition, his injuries and his bike show us pretty well how the car hit him and it didn't hit him from the side but from behind. He should have been found laying on the street. We did simulations. And we can only comprehend one of his head injuries. The one at the back of his head. He must have gotten it when he hit the street. But the other injuries above his eye and the skull fracture on his forehead …" She shook her head.

Larry explained, "Someone beat him."

Don made angry fists and pressed one of them against his forehead. "And then he got dragged into the woods," he said.

Colby swallowed. "To let him die."

Tanja asked, "Why didn't they just shoot him or beat him to death?"

Hitchcock cleared his throat. "They couldn't shoot him – it wouldn't look like an accident. They didn't kill him because they lost their nerves. Or they thought that he was dead." He looked at Don. "What did Freddy and Kirk say?"

"Nothing."

"Hm," Hitchcock said, "We suspected that much. JM's guys are never talking."

Megan nodded. "Except the officer."

Hitchcock rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "We should talk to Freddy and Kirk again. Maybe put them both in one room. We should confront them with the accident … attack."

Don nodded his consent.

XXX

When Charlie woke up, Alan was gone. Instead, Larry and the young woman with the black long hair were sitting at his bed.

"Charles," Larry said. Charlie gave him a smile. Larry had always been a safe haven for him. And now, that his father and his brother were practically strangers to him - and his mother was gone - he felt instinctively that nothing had changed between him and Larry.

The young woman leant forward in her chair. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

Charlie sighed. "Well, I have morphine, I'm great," he tried a joke, but failing miserably when neither Larry nor Amita were laughing. "Sorry," Charlie said softly, "Did dad finally go home?"

Larry shook his head. "He's right outside, talking to Don."

"He should go home," Charlie said. He looked at Amita. "I'm sorry, I …" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "What was your name again?"

She smiled a little sadly. "I'm Amita," she said.

"Larry's student?" Charlie asked.

"No," she answered, "I was yours." She cleared her throat. "We work together. You were my thesis advisor."

"Really?" Charlie asked with a smile, "Am I … any good as a teacher?"

Amita laughed. "Sometimes, you talk too fast," she answered. Charlie smiled and noticed a fluttering in his stomach. Amita brushed through her hair, grinning at him with sparkling eyes, and suddenly he remembered something.

_Amita had folded her arms around his neck and pressed her body to his. He broke the kiss and pushed her back gently. "Amita …" He shook his head. "That's not a good idea. I'm your thesis advisor." _

_Amita looked at him with huge dark eyes and Charlie was sorry to reject her. "We can't." _

"_Is that the only reason?" Amita asked hesitantly as if she didn't want to know the answer. _

_Charlie didn't want to lie. "Yes," he said, "a good one." _

_Amita sighed. "Okay," she said. She smiled. "Good to know. We'll … just see what the future brings then."_

"Charles?" Larry asked. The memory vanished as fast as it had come and took its place among his other memories as if it had never been gone. The memories preceding and following it, though, were still blurred or just not there.

"What?" Charlie asked, confused. He noticed Amita's worried look upon his face and blushed when, once again, he remembered their kiss.

"How far away from Earth have you been just now?" Larry asked. Charlie looked at Amita who was staring at him just as curiously as Larry.

"I've been nowhere," he answered and forced a nervous smile. "I was just … I just thought for a second there that I remembered something." He would need more information, though, before he talked with them about his memory. "So, the three of us work together at CalSci. What's been going on there the last few years?"

XXX

Alan felt weak and had to lean against the wall of the corridor. Alerted, Don put a hand on his arm. "Dad?"

"Someone tried to kill Charlie?" he asked, aghast.

David nodded calmingly. "Don't worry. Charlie will be guarded 24/7 from now on."

"Dad," Don added, "You know that I would never let anything happen to Charlie."

Alan didn't seem to realize that he was even there. "How can someone be so cold and just hit my boy with a car?"

"We'll find whoever did this," Don promised. Alan rubbed his forehead. He seemed exhausted, dark rings were under his eyes and Don realized that his father had been in the hospital whenever they'd talked on the phone or he'd been visiting Charlie the last couple of days. When Margaret Eppes had been in hospital, Alan had been the same - constantly at her side – until he'd crashed from exhaustion.

"Dad," Don said insistently, "You should go home and lay down. Come in a little later tomorrow. You need your rest. Charlie's not critical."

Alan shook his head. "I can't just leave him alone. He hates hospitals."

"David will be with him, dad. He's not going to be alone, okay?"

Alan looked at David and the other man nodded at him. "Colby will take over watch tonight but I'll be back bright and early, Mr. Eppes."

Alan was still hesitating, so Don said, "Listen: How about I take you, Amita and Larry out for dinner? Then, I'll take you home and you're going to go to bed."

Alan sighed reluctantly. "Fine."

"Fine," Don repeated with a smile, "Just wait here for a minute. I'll be right back."

With David, he entered Charlie's room. He was relieved to see that Charlie was talking animatedly with Larry and Amita. All three of them were smiling.

"Hey, buddy!" Don said.

When Charlie looked at him, he became a little more guarded. "Hey!"

Don nodded at David. "This is David Sinclair. He's on my team. You worked with him a few times, too."

Charlie nodded at David. "Hi."

"Amita, Larry," Don said, "I told Dad that I would take you out for dinner."

"Can you make him get some sleep?" Charlie asked, "He's here almost 24/7."

"I will," Don said. He looked pointedly at Larry and Amita and the two scientists got up. They said goodbye to Charlie and left. "Bro," Don said a little hesitantly and pulled the note that the nurse Charlotte Wyatt had given him from his jeans pocket. He handed it to Charlie. "Do you recognize these?"

"Beta 13 48 Omega 83," Charlie read aloud. He frowned and looked up at Don, obviously insecure about what his brother wanted from him. "Should I know this?"

"You said that to one of the nurses in ER."

"I don't remember," Charlie said.

"Yeah, I thought so," Don answered and took the note back.

"Sorry," Charlie said.

"Don't worry about it," Don answered with a smile. Then he became serious. "Charlie …"

His brother looked at him.

"You being here," Don said, "isn't because of an accident."

Charlie frowned. "What?"

"Someone hit you with his car – on purpose." Don let the thought sink in.

"What?" his brother finally asked in confusion, "Why?"

"You were working a big case with us," Don explained.

"That's the reason?" Charlie asked and stared at Don anxiously, "You think that he …"

"Don't worry. David will stay with you, okay?" Don said. Charlie cast an insecure look at the agent and David smiled. "He's a great agent," Don said, "You're safe with him. You trust him." He put a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "I gotta go now, okay? Don't worry." He pulled a cell phone from his jacket and handed it to Charlie. "Your cell was damaged in the accident. But Amita was able to copy your contacts into this cell. My number's on speed dial 1, okay? Call me, no matter when, no matter why."

Charlie was looking at the cell and Don bent his knees slightly to be able to catch his eyes. He had to be sure that Charlie understood him.

"Okay, Charlie?"

His brother nodded slowly. "Okay."

Don smiled at him and then left with a last nod to David. The agent sighed and sat down on the chair next to Charlie's bed. Charlie looked at him as if he wasn't sure that he could trust him and David laughed. "You know, the two of us actually get along great," he said.

"Really?" Charlie asked. David nodded. "How did we meet?"

David leant back in his chair. "Well, I was new on Don's team …"

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

**10.**

_When Charlie woke up, rain had soaked his clothes and he was shivering. It was still night and the black silhouettes of the trees above him stood out towards the deep blue night sky and the stars. His head was killing him and something didn't seem to be quite right with his chest. He had no idea what had happened, he just remembered that he'd been on his way home. And he knew that he needed help. He coughed and moved his right hand carefully to his jeans pocket. His palms burned and his left hand felt worse than his right therefore he didn't move it at all. Charlie fished the cell phone from his pocket with difficulty and dialled Don's number. Don didn't answer. Charlie's chest contracted in panic and his hand trembled while he was pressing the cell to his ear. _

_Did something happen to Don? Why had nobody told him?_

_The mailbox finally answered. Charlie swallowed and said softly, "Don? I think I'm in trouble. Please … answer. Please …" He hung up, stared upwards and realized that the trees had started to spin slowly. He felt sick. He tried to dial 911 but he blacked out. _

The moon was shining through the thin curtains into his room and Charlie blinked in the pale light. He had to have fallen asleep during his conversation with David. He sighed deeply.

"You're awake," a man said and Charlie startled, turning his head. A man had got up of a chair in the corner of the room and stepped towards him. He was large and looked muscular. Charlie had no idea who he was. And he suddenly thought of Don's words - that somebody wanted to see him dead.

And where was David?

In panic, Charlie reached for the call button to summon a nurse, but the man grabbed his wrist. "Hey, it's okay, it's me."

Charlie tried to free his hand and took a deep breath to call for help, but the man clapped a hand over his mouth. "Charlie. I'm Colby from the FBI. Calm down."

Charlie stared at him doubtfully and Colby let go of his hand to get his ID from his jeans pocket. "See? It's okay. I'm replacing David."

_Colby clapped his back and grinned. "Good job, Whiz Kid."_

Charlie relaxed a little, clinging to the memory of the friendly touch and the smile on Colby's face. Colby let him go. "Okay?" he asked carefully. Charlie nodded. Colby switched on the bedside lamp. "Sorry," he said softly, "We should have woken you up when I took over watch, huh?"

Charlie shook his head, regretting the motion a second later, and closed his eyes against the pain.

"Okay. You need something? Pain meds? Should I call the nurse?"

"I'm fine," Charlie answered.

"Okay," Colby said, shoving his hands into his pockets, "Sorry."

"It's okay," Charlie answered. He closed his eyes and pressed his cheek into the pillow, his face turned away from Colby.

"Charlie?" the agent asked uncertainly and the mathematician forced back tears, tried to stifle a sob. Colby had to have seen the twitching of his shoulders because Charlie felt him sitting down on the edge of the bed and touching his shoulder. "Hey, Charlie! You okay?"

Charlie didn't answer.

"I should call Don."

"No," Charlie answered hastily. He looked up at Colby. "I just hate this," he whispered.

"What?" Colby asked.

"Not being able to … not knowing people … having no memory of my past eight years, it's as if …" He stopped.

"Hey," Colby said and sighed, "Nobody's blaming you, you know."

"I know," Charlie answered. Nobody but himself.

XXX

_Don was already waiting for him at the elevators. "Hey, Charlie!" he said._

"_Hey!" _

_They headed for the conference room. The open-plan office was as always bustling with activity. Phones were ringing, agents were running around with files in their hands and a man was just led into one of the interrogation rooms by an agent. _

"_Thanks for coming," Don said and put an arm around Charlie's shoulders. _

_Charlie smiled. "You're welcome."_

_Don sighed. "I should warn you that the other team's leader – Agent Hitchcock – isn't convinced by your methods."_

"_Okay," Charlie said cautiously. They entered the conference room and Charlie nodded at Megan, Colby and David before he looked at the other team. Three young agents were sitting at the large table with Don's team, two women and a man. One of the women - her red, curly hair reaching over her shoulders, framing a pretty face with large blue eyes - seemed to be young enough to just have come from the academy. The other woman was a little older with shoulder-length, fair hair, the blue eyes serious but kind. The young man had his head propped on a hand, his fingers buried in his fair hair. Behind them, Tom Hitchcock was looming - tall, slim, with dark hair and eyes. He was looking at Charlie with an open frown and the mathematician suddenly felt incompetent and insecure under the intense eyes. He'd had this feeling only one other time, but he and Agent Edgerton had a mutual respect for each other, now. Maybe, he would be able to change Hitchcock's mind, too. _

"_How long will this take?" the agent asked. Maybe not. Don frowned while Charlie was putting down his bag. _

"_Agent Hitchcock, meet my brother Charlie. Charlie, those two are the Agents Tanja Singer and Sandra Balin. The young man is Agent Simon Mirren." _

_Charlie smiled at the three young agents and Sandra returned the smile, tucking her red locks behind her ears. Charlie emphasized the smile in Hitchcock's direction. "I'm going to listen to the case's specifics and then I'll see how I can help you," he explained, sitting down next to Megan. He felt her hand on his arm and smiled at her, thanking her for the silent support. _

_Don remained standing and began the briefing. " We're after JM. He is one of the best-known drug bosses of America and especially here in LA. He's regarded as the most successful head of the organized crime in this area. We have no idea what he looks like. But we know that he's got a right hand, Freddy Tyson. We're hunting him for a whole while now, however, we weren't able to catch him, yet. We also know that JM uses rest areas as trade centres for his large transactions. He sells the drugs to his dealers who sell them to their subordinates - this way, the stuff gets into the clubs and everywhere where drugs are dealt. JM deals everything from heroin up to the new lifestyle drug Lightning which has kept the hospitals on the move for a couple of weeks, now."_

"_I read about it," Charlie answered. _

_Colby added, "That stuff's expensive and is only sold in the hippest clubs. Only a small overdose can kill you. Nevertheless, it's very popular."_

_Megan nodded. "Ten people died in a span of the last three weeks."_

_Charlie nodded his understanding and looked at Don. "I could find JM's market places – those rest areas."_

_Don nodded. "I was hoping you could help us catch dirty cops, too. JM's bribing LAPD cops."_

_Charlie grimaced. "That's a lot of data." He rubbed his forehead. "Uh … I have this class about social network analysis and its appliance to real life. I could get some of the students to help me input the data."_

"_You'll get whatever you want," Don answered._

Charlie opened his eyes and looked at Larry who was sitting beside him, correcting tests. David was sitting in a corner of the room and read a magazine. Charlie cleared his throat and Larry looked up. He smiled happily. "Charles! Agent Sinclair an I were just discussing if we should wake you up."

Charlie sat up carefully and grimaced as the suture in his stomach avenged the movement with a sharp pain. David nodded, got up and rolled a wheelchair from the end of the bed to Charlie's side. "Dr. Cummings wants you to get up and get out of your room for a while. We thought that the snacks in the machine down the hallway are worth to be checked out," David suggested and put the brakes on the wheelchair.

"Okay," Charlie said.

XXX

Amita's office was smaller than Charlie's but by far more organized. Don's eyes drifted over the bookshelves and the two blackboards next to the window before he knocked on the doorframe. Amita looked up from her computer screen. "Hey!" she smiled and Don returned the smile, entering her office.

"I was just getting ready to head over to Charlie," the young woman said.

Don stopped in front of her desk and put his hands on his hips. "I was hoping that you could do me a favour."

"Again?" she grinned.

Don shrugged. "Charlie was trying to find dirty cops in the LAPD," he explained.

Amita nodded. "He told me. I helped with the data. He was working on a pretty complex equation to try and reduce the suspect list."

"Yeah," Don nodded and crossed his arms, "Could you try and finish what he started?"

Amita frowned. Don said, "We interrogated three suspects and we've been working the case for weeks, now, but we just can't get a lead. Even Agent Hitchcock's ready to use Charlie's methods. It was his idea. Charlie's still too weak to do it, so we thought …"

Amita nodded thoughtfully. "I'm going to take a look at the equations but, Don … you should remember that Charlie was putting all he had into them. I'm not him."

"I know," Don answered, "But you're a very gifted mathematician yourself. Charlie thinks so, too. Give it a try."

She nodded. "Okay. I'll look through his notes one more time. Maybe Larry can help me, but I doubt it. Link analysis creeps him out."

"As long as you give it a try," Don said, "The guy who tried to kill Charlie's still out there." He smiled. "I'm going to put an agent on you."

"Not necessary," Amita said.

"You know, my brother would say the same thing," Don smiled, "but he would kill me if I didn't get you the proper security." He cleared his throat. "By the way, I think that you should try again."

She frowned. "What?"

"Dating."

"Don," she sighed, "at the moment, he doesn't even remember my last name."

"But he will regain his memory," Don said, "And you should try again as soon as he does."

Amita sighed. But she didn't answer. Don took that as a hint that he'd said enough. "I'll get going. I'll send you an agent, okay?"

She nodded and he left.

XXX

Dr. Cummings was sitting next to Charlie on the edge of the bed, checking his pupils with a small lamp. "The reaction's good," she said and put the lamp into the breast pocket of her coat, "How are you holding up with the pain?"

"It's okay," Charlie said.

"The sutures look good. With a little luck, you will leave us the day after tomorrow."

Charlie smiled in relief. "That would be great."

"But," Cummings said and looked at him earnestly, "you have to rest. Avoid excitement of any kind. And you have to take the meds we're going to give you. You'll get prescriptions for painkillers, too, and you will take them. And if it gets too bad, if you're feeling sick or dizzy, you come back here, okay?"

Alan, standing in a corner of the room, answered for Charlie. "Understood. I'm going to keep an eye on him."

Cummings smiled her thanks. "I thought so." Then she focused on Charlie. "How are those memories coming?"

He grimaced. "I get flashes sometimes, but they're really confusing and out of context."

"Okay," Cummings said, "But that's a good sign." She got up. "We'll talk in the morning. I'll give you my phone number, just in case, so whenever you think that there's something wrong, you can call me."

"_Hey, Don! It's nearly midnight, now. I'm a bit worried because you don't call me. I'm going home, now. Just call me, okay?"_

Charlie closed his eyes and massaged his forehead.

"Dr. Eppes?"

He shook his head. "I'm fine. It's okay."

She looked at him sceptically and he smiled in assurance. "Really."

_Rain clouds were looming above him and headlights were cutting through the darkness. Somebody was leaning over him. "Damn." _

XXX

Amita shook her head in frustration and stepped away from the black board. She leafed through Charlie's notes and tucked her long hair behind her ears. Agent Simon Mirren, who was sitting in a corner of her office, averted the look from the campus outside her window. "Is everything alright?"

She shook her head. "No," she said, "something's wrong. Charlie must've made a mistake or …" She massaged her forehead. "Or he saw something I'm unable to."

Simon looked at the black board – covered with equations in a beautiful and easily to read writing – and raised his eyebrows. "I'm good with maths, but …" He shrugged. "That goes way over my head."

"Charlie tried to find dirty cops with this equation. But he doesn't seem to have made progress."

"Maybe there are none," Simon said.

"No, that's not it. There's something … he was confused. He just stopped calculating and began anew. And he used data I have never seen before."

Simon squinted his eyes and stared at the equations in concentration. Then he smiled. "No, still don't get it."

Amita turned round to her desk and searched the folders she'd taken from Charlie's office: Personal files of policemen, reports of crimes connected to JM ... she sank into her chair. "Something's missing," she said.

Simon had turned back to watch the campus but now, he looked at Amita. "What?"

She shook her head. "Charlie used data I've never seen before and that's neither in those files nor on his laptop. I went through everything repeatedly. Something's missing." She looked at Simon. "Charlie's always taking his work home with him. Whatever it is that's missing now, he must've had it in his bag when the car hit him."

Simon nodded his understanding. "Somebody took it."

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

**11.**

"Dad told me that maybe they'll let you go you the day after tomorrow," Don said and stopped the wheelchair in the waiting room of the neurology wing.

Charlie nodded. "Yeah."

"You think that you're ready?"

Charlie shrugged and stared out the window into the warm sunny evening. Don pulled a chair closer and sat down next to him. Even in the evening, Los Angeles didn't calm down. The traffic was rumbling by the hospital and on the sidewalks, people were hurrying towards their next objective. The setting sun fell through the window, getting caught in Charlie's hair. Don sighed when he saw the distant, thoughtful expression on the pale face of his brother. "What's going on, huh?"

Charlie swallowed. "The numbers are gone."

Don frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"I can solve every problem you give me but … before, they were just always there."

Don sighed. "You were in an accident, Charlie. You got hurt. Even your head has its boundaries. Give it time."

Charlie's hands gripped the wheelchair's armrests and he closed his eyes. "But I want to help you, Don. David told me about the case and there are possibilities to work with the data, but I-"

"Hey!" Don interrupted and put a hand on the back of Charlie's neck, "Hey, calm down, okay? Calm down. The doctor doesn't want you to get upset." He sighed. "Don't worry about the numbers, okay?" He smiled. "They'll be back."

Charlie looked at him. "I want to help you."

"I know," Don answered, "But I can wait for you to get better."

"_Charlie, forget your damn numbers. Mom needs you."_

Charlie closed his eyes, confused by the memory. The picture of the garage in his parental home flashed in his head, filled blackboards, but it disappeared again before he could get a hold of it.

"Are you okay?" Don asked. He nodded.

"_You okay? Charlie." Don didn't sound impatient but worried and Charlie felt his brother's hands pressing him against a car. "He didn't hit you, right?" Don asked in alarm and his hands were looking for injuries._

_Charlie shook his head and looked up to the Banitec Towers. "I'm just … a little shook up."_

Charlie looked at Don. "Do you enjoy working with me?"

Don raised his eyebrows, surprised by the question. "Yeah," he answered finally, "sure."

Charlie remained sceptical. "Really?"

Don nodded, worried. "What's going through that head of yours, buddy?"

Charlie avoided his eyes and shook his head. "I don't know. I'm confused."

"That's okay," Don said, "Everything's going to be okay." He brushed through Charlie's hair and smiled.

XXX

Don rummaged about his pockets, searching his car keys, and looked at his father who was walking the hospital's parking lot mutely beside him. Around them, people got into their cars. The visiting time was officially over and the patients' family members and friends were headed home. Since Charlie was feeling better, Alan had been sent home, too, although he'd wanted to stay with his son. Don could have worked his magic and let Alan stay overnight but he didn't want to. His father looked tired and he needed sleep. Therefore he had suggested to drive him home and to eat with him. Then, he wanted to head for the office and concentrate on the case. Don opened the car. "Get in, Dad. I'm going to make a call," he said and Alan nodded tiredly. He got in on the passenger side and closed the door while Don was dialling Megan's office number.

His eyes roamed over the parking lot out of instinct, looking for danger, while he waited for her to pick up. _"Megan Reeves,"_ she finally said, sounding out of breath.

Don smiled. "Where are you coming from?"

"_Break room,"_ she answered and he could hear her grin, _"As always, you're right on time, boss."_

He looked to the window of Charlie's room and saw David's shadow moving inside. The conversation with his brother was still echoing in his head.

"Can you do me a favour?" he asked.

Megan sounded worried. _"Sure. What's up?" _

XXX

_Charlie couldn't see Don and David but he heard them. The door to the conference room was left ajar and Don was talking loudly. Terry threw him an assuring smile from her desk and he forced himself to smile back before he clenched his hand in the strap of his bag, focusing on Don._

"_What were you thinking?"_

"_I don't know," David answered, "I made a mistake. He wanted to go there-"_

"_I don't care what Charlie wanted, understood? He's a civilian and in a situation like this one, it's your responsibility to protect him. The guy could have killed him. Do you understand what that means?" _

"_Yeah," David answered softly._

"_I thought you had more sense of responsibility. I know that you're a newbie on this team but it was your assignment to look after Charlie and you didn't."_

"_I'm sorry, Don."_

"_Sorry? If Edgerton hadn't been there, Charlie would be dead by now!"_

_Charlie flinched and a couple of heads turned to the conference room. Then, the agents went back to their work. For a moment, it was quiet in the conference room. Then David said, "I'll pay better attention next time."_

"_There won't be a next time. He's my little brother and he won't work for me any more."_

_Charlie couldn't react fast enough. Don left the conference room and when he saw Charlie standing at the door, his eyes flashed furiously. He grabbed Charlie's arm and steered him towards the elevators. "What the hell are you doing here? I told you that I don't wanna see you here anymore." _

There was a knock at the door to Charlie's room and David put his magazine aside. He got up and headed for the door with a hand at his gun. When he opened, Charlie saw a young woman standing outside. David had to know her because he immediately eased his stance. "Hey, what are you doing here?"

She looked at Charlie with sharp, green eyes and spoke with David so softly that he couldn't hear her. Charlie didn't know what to think of it and felt reminded of teachers and professors who had been talking about him while he was calculating. David nodded and turned around to Charlie. "Listen, this is Megan Reeves. She's in Don's team, too, and you know her. I'm going to grab a bite." He left and Charlie was left alone with Agent Reeves. She smiled and closed the door. Her light brown hair was in a plait and she slid her hands into the pockets of her dark jeans. She seemed to be nice but Charlie didn't know her. He felt overtaxed by all the people he knew.

"Hey, Charlie!"

"Hey!" he answered.

"I'm Megan," she said and sat down next to his bed.

"_Charlie?" _

_He looked up from his laptop._

"_Next time you wanna demonstrate something, don't use my food, okay?" _

"I'm a profiler."

Charlie instinctively shrank back. Megan smiled. "Yeah, that was your reaction when we met for the first time, too."

"Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Megan said earnestly. She took Charlie's hand. "When you were a kid you had to go see therapists," she said, "and you hated it."

Charlie stared at her in surprise.

"You told me that," she explained, "Your mother took you out of therapy then and decided that she and your father would be all the support you needed." She smiled. "You seem to be better."

"They're thinking about letting me go home the day after tomorrow."

"That's great," Megan said and let go of his hand. She propped her arms on the bed and leant forwards. She suddenly got serious and Charlie suspected that she'd not merely come to see him. "Don's worried."

"Why?" Charlie asked in surprise.

"Because of you."

Charlie avoided her eyes and Megan sighed. "He told me that you were keeping things from him and your dad."

"I don't know …" Charlie stopped.

Megan waited. When Charlie didn't go on, instead opting to stare at the ceiling, she said, "This conversation could be just between you and me. I'll tell Don that we talked and that you feel better but that I can't tell him what we talked about."

"_You know, you've never been really good at keeping secrets. Think about it."_

Charlie closed his eyes. Don's voice sounded as if he was just kidding but it hurt nonetheless. "I think I did something wrong."

"What?" Megan asked cautiously.

"It's about … my mom and … Don hates me for it."

"Don doesn't hate you." Megan smiled. "Believe me, Charlie, Don's as far away from hating you as he can. In fact, as soon as we find the guy who hit you and drove off, I think he'll tear him apart limb by limb."

"There are memories of … him yelling at me. Because of mom."

Megan knew what Charlie was talking about. She didn't know any details but Don had mentioned it casually and she could read people well. "Charlie, that was then."

"What did I do?"

"Your family should answer that."

Charlie turned his head away.

"But you can be sure that Don doesn't hate you. He couldn't."

Charlie didn't seem to be convinced, so Megan added, "You should talk to him about it, but he really loves you, okay? You two just … had a rough time."

"I hate the fact that I don't remember. I feel like a stranger."

Megan hesitated for a moment then she gently brushed a hand through Charlie's hair. He permitted the touch.

"You're not."

"I never had many friends. I don't know. Suddenly, there are so many people who know me and I …" He swallowed. "I don't know them. I don't wanna lose them. By saying the wrong thing."

"You won't," Megan answered and waited until Charlie was looking at her, "That's what friendship's about."

XXX

_The asphalt tore up his jeans and his legs got caught in the bike. The ground was wet and cold and everything hurt. Rain clouds were looming above him and headlights were cutting through the darkness. Somebody was leaning over him. "Damn." _

_Charlie groaned and coughed. He tried to turn on his side but his body didn't cooperate. The man beside him grabbed his arm and took the rucksack from him roughly before he let go of Charlie who fell back down to the road. Charlie was confused. Didn't he want to help him? _

"_Where are they, huh?" the man asked. Charlie gasped when he tried to stand up and fire shot through his flank.._

"_There they are," the man said. Charlie got to his feet but the other man pushed him and Charlie fell down. _

"_You were supposed to be dead by now," he said. Suddenly, he addressed another person. "Open the trunk." He looked down at Charlie who couldn't see his face clearly, fighting against the spots dancing in front of his eyes. _

"_Bring the baseball bat over here."_

Charlie cried out and wanted to turn away but a sharp pain in his stomach stopped him.

"Charlie," Colby said, startled, and switched on the lights. It scared the dangerous shadows out of the room but Charlie didn't seem to notice. He tried frantically to escape from the IV, his dark eyes widened in panic and his breathing too quick. His hands were trembling and he couldn't get a hold on the IV.

"Charlie, you okay?" Colby gently gripped his arms and forced him to look into his blue eyes. "It was just a dream, okay?"

Charlie's eyes remained unfocused and he kept fighting Colby's hands.

"Stop it, Charlie," Colby said.

"Beta 13 48 omega 83," Charlie whispered.

"What?" Colby asked in confusion.

Charlie blinked and suddenly, he was staring at Colby much more clearly. He was still panting but he finally seemed to be awake. "Colby," he gasped. His eyes roamed the room and found the cell phone on his bedside table.

He grabbed it and Colby let go of him.

"Charlie," he said cautiously and sat down on the bed. Charlie pressed the cell to his ear and looked at Colby helplessly.

"_Charlie?"_ Don answered, worried.

"I remember the accident." Charlie's frightened voice made Don forget the late evening conference with Hitchcock's team. He turned away from the other agents and looked through the glass front of the conference room into the open-plan office where some agents were still working.

"_Charlie, you remember? Everything?"_

"No," Charlie answered.

Hitchcock spoke up. "Eppes, can he identify him?"

Don raised a hand to silence him. His little brother was breathing too fast.

"Charlie, just breathe. Is Colby with you?"

"_Yeah. He's here."_

"Good. Nothing's gonna happen. Breathe." Don listened to Charlie taking a few deeper breaths. "Better?" he asked.

"_Yeah,"_ Charlie answered.

"Good," Don said, "Did you see the driver?"

"_No,"_ Charlie answered, _"everything's hazy and … but, Don …"_ Charlie took a shaking breath. _"Don … he wasn't alone."_

XXX

JM was always sounding calm when he picked up the phone. _"What's up?"_

"I just heard," he said and brushed a hand through his short hair. He looked across the street in front of the FBI building and smiled at a couple passing him on their late night stroll. Reeves and Sinclair were only a couple of meters away, catching some fresh air. He had to act as if he would actually call just his brother. "The professor's starting to remember."

JM was silent for a moment. _"Are you sure?"_

"Very. He can't identify me, yet, but I don't know if that will change. I eavesdropped on Eppes and Granger. Looks as if the professor's getting out the day after tomorrow. I can get to him in his house."

JM sighed deeply. _"Well, see that you do."_

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Again, thanks for all the kind reviews. This is chapter 12 and chapter 13 will be the last one.

**12.**

The heat clutching L.A. reached its high by noon. It was the hottest in the abysses between the skyscrapers in the city. Amita nodded her thanks at Agent Mirren when she left the car and got Charlie's laptop bag and her rucksack from the backseat. She entered the thankfully climated hospital. In the elevator, she opened her plait. She brushed through her long hair and checked her appearence via the frosted elevator doors before she got out on Charlie's floor. She entered the room after a brief knock. Charlie was sitting in his bed, David had taken a chair opposite him and between them, a chessboard was set up.

"Hey, Charlie!" Amita said and he raised his head. His eyes seemed more attentive and awake then the last few days. David smiled at Amita and made his move. "Agent Mirren gave me a lift," Amita said and pulled a chair up to the bed before she unpacked and opened the laptop, "Don told me you're feeling better."

Charlie shrugged and smiled faintly. "I'm better," he said, "I can go home tomorrow."

"I thought you could take a look at those equations," Amita said, "I'm stuck. It's your work, so ..." She handed Charlie the laptop who took it, clearly intrigued. "You were trying to find dirty cops in the LAPD and worked through a load of personal files. But the variables you'e using here are totally beyond me."

David got up. "We'll finish the game later," he suggested.

Charlie shook his head. "No, no." He moved his knight and looked at the laptop screen, muttering, "Checkmate."

"What?" David looked at the board.

Charlie glanced at him shyly. "Well, I could have won three moves ago. I just thought ..." He shrugged.

"Now I know what Alan was talking about," David sighed and smiled at Charlie before taking his chair in the room's corner.

Charlie stared at the equations. "Hm."

Amita watched his eyes skimming the formulas and smiled. She loved this part of Charlie. So focused, analytical and in his own little world. "I'm getting nothing," he said after a while. "I need the sources I was using."

"We don't have those." Amita looked at David. "We think that you had them with you when the accident happened and that they were stolen."

"_Where are they, huh?"_

Charlie closed his eyes and banned the memory. "Yeah," he said, "Somebody took something out of my rucksack."

David got up. "You remember?"

"Not really," Charlie answered, "Just that there were two people and that they took something."

"Charlie," Amita said, "you must have known who the mole was. Or at least you must have had a reasonable suspicion."

"I don't remember," Charlie answered.

_He sat up and stared dumbly at the huge shard of glass embedded in his flank. For a second, he didn't understand what it was that he was seeing, but then he gasped. "Oh God," he mumbled. Nausea was starting to set in. A strong hand grabbed his jacket while the other yanked his helmet from its place. _

"_No, what ..." Charlie heard steps coming closer and raised his head. Somebody was coming towards them with a baseball bat in his hand. A flashlight was lit and he closed his eyes against the bright light. _

_The man let go of him. "Give it to me. I'm doing it." _

_Charlie didn't wait any longer. He stumbled to his feet and tried to run but the man was faster. The bat hit Charlie's waist and he cried out and stumbled to the ground. The shard in his chest was shoved deeper into his body and he coughed when the ability to feel pain returned, taking his breath. The next hit targeted his left leg and Charlie lost consciousness when he felt a bone shift and break. He came to just a few seconds later when the man stopped next to him._

"_Tell me why", Charlie gasped, "We trusted you." Charlie didn't even feel the next hit against his head._

"Charlie," Amita said in alarm and he opened his eyes. He must have lost time because David wasn't sitting in his chair anymore but perched next to him on the bed. Both of them seemed to be worried.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Charlie shook his head. "They were trying to kill me," he said softly.

"Who?" Amita asked and Charlie shook his head.

"I don't know." He looked at the equations. "But I did."

XXX

Don rubbed his tired eyes and sighed deeply. It was already late afternoon but time hardly played a role for the FBI. Less agents were present but telephones were still ringing non-stop and half of the desks were occupied. Agent Hitchcock stopped next to Don's desk and crossed his arms. "Nothing," he said. Don looked up at him. Hitchcock pulled a chair close and dropped into it. His face was tense and his eyes tired. All of them were slowly reaching their limits. "Freddy and Kirk won't talk. Their lawyers are just as uncooperative. And when I told them about the attack they didn't even blink an eye."

"JM's people," Don answered and Hitchcock nodded.

"Yeah. They don't talk much," he answered.

"Except for Officer McTroy," Don answered.

Hitchcock laughed. "You want to know what I think? JM bribed McTroy to confess. McTroy will go to jail and as soon as he's free he's going to find a nice bundle of dollar notes in some locker somewhere in the city." He shrugged. "JM takes care of his own."

Don snorted. "Why should he tell somebody to confess?"

Hitchcock shrugged. "JM loves the thrill of playing with us, Eppes. He did from the very start."

Don cleared his throat. "Charlie's well enough to get back to his calculations. He's already on it. Nothing yet but I know that he'll find something."

"Your brother's the only witness we have, Eppes. If he remembers the two attacking him …"

"I know," Don answered, "But he's still struggling."

Hitchcock sighed. "They will let him out tomorrow?"

Don nodded.

"Will you keep an agent on him?"

"24/7," Don nodded.

"Better that way," Hitchcock answered, "I don't think JM wanted him to survive. And he's the kind of guy who gets what he wants."

XXX

When Don drove up to the hospital in the evening, Alan was already standing on the sidewalk, waiting. His father climbed into the car and fastened his seatbelt while Don was filtering into the traffic again. "Hey, dad!" he said a little too late and Alan smiled at him. "How's Charlie?"

"He's frustrated," Alan answered and glanced at Don sceptically, "He's been running those numbers ever since Amita gave them to him – the numbers for your case."

Don nodded. "I know."

"I don't like it."

Don frowned. "Why not, dad?"

"Because he didn't stop working ever since he got them. And he isn't getting anywhere. Don, you know how he can be."

"He's getting nowhere?" Don asked with a hint of disappointment.

"Not the point," Alan answered in irritation, "Charlie's hurt and I don't want him to overwork himself."

Don sighed, irritated as well. He and his father had had this discussion before. Sometimes, Don had the feeling that Alan didn't trust him to look out for his little brother. "Dad, Charlie can decide for himself when he wants to stop working. He's not the same man he was a few years ago."

"That's where you're wrong, Don, he is."

Don stopped at a red light and looked at his father.

"He's trying to impress you, Donnie, that's why he's so obsessed with the case."

"Damn," Don muttered in frustration, "I thought we had moved beyond that."

He grabbed his cell phone, but Alan said, "He's asleep. Work tired him out. Colby promised me to not let him get back to it until tomorrow morning."

Don nodded his agreement.

Alan and he were silent for the next minutes. But finally, Alan broke the silence. "How close are you, Donnie?"

He didn't have to ask what his father was talking about. It was clear that Alan was worried because of JM and because of the fact that Charlie's accident hadn't been one. Primarily, because Charlie's attacker was still out there and presumably already planning his next move. He sighed deeply. "Not close enough."

XXX

"_Give it to me. I'm doing it." _

_Charlie didn't wait any longer. He stumbled to his feet and tried to run but the man was faster. The bat hit Charlie's waist and he cried out and stumbled to the ground. The shard in his flank was shoved deeper into his body and he coughed when the ability to feel pain returned, taking his breath._

"Charlie," a woman said and he opened his eyes. He was confused for a moment because not the neutral, white ceiling of the hospital room was stretching above him but dark wood. His right hand found leather under his body and he turned his head. Amita was sitting on the coffee table and looking at him in concern. "You were having a nightmare," she said. Charlie's eyes chased through the familiar living room of his parental home and he sighed, becoming calm. He was lying on the couch under the window and the sun was warming his body. Noises could be heard in the kitchen and conversation shreds penetrated through to the living room. David and his father. "Are you okay?" Amita asked worriedly.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah." But he wasn't sure of that. He suppressed his frustration about his left hand still being in a cast and pushed himself up with his right hand.

"Where are you going?" Amita asked.

"Garage," he answered instinctively. He wanted to work on the case. But something wasn't right and he frowned. "The solarium," he answered anew, insecure. He hadn't worked in the garage since he'd come back from Princeton. The winter garden offered much more light. Or had he moved back into the garage?

Amita's dark eyes were showing something akin to sadness. "No, you're always working in the garage," she answered.

"Why?" he asked.

"Space issues," she answered. Charlie sighed and wanted to get up but Amita gently forced him to lie back. "You have to rest."

"I can't sleep anymore." Charlie was always having nightmares as of late.

"Rest," Amita said. She smiled.

"_Are you really sure?" Amita asked softly. _

_Charlie rubbed his forehead and propped his arms up on his desk. "We talked about it. We were seeing eye to eye."_

"_We aren't compatible," Amita said slowly. Charlie looked up at her and shrugged sadly. Amita seemed deeply hurt. But she disguised it with a smile. "Okay."_

Charlie wondered if there was anyone he hadn't hurt. According to his fragmentary memories, his father and his brother had a reason to be furious with him and now Amita obviously had, too. She was still sitting beside him and gave him a smile. Instinctively he straightened up again and kissed her. "Sorry," he said softly. Amita looked at him, surprised, and from such a proximity, Charlie noticed for the first time how dark her eyes were. And he was sure that he was in love with her. "Whatever I did-"

"Nothing," Amita interrupted him and put a hand on the back of his neck. "Nothing, Charlie," she shook her head. She sighed. "It was just … a bad date. Okay? Nothing more."

_He looked at Amita undecidedly over the dessert and she looked back. She made to say to something, however, she stopped herself. _

"Oh!" Charlie said when the memory of that evening took its place in his mind.

"But we talked about it," Amita said.

Charlie frowned. "You didn't go to Harvard because of me."

"No," she answered, "Charlie, I'm not denying myself an opportunity because of a man. Sorry." She smiled. "CalSci made a better offer." She brushed his hair out of his forehead. "That doesn't mean that you weren't a big factor."

He cleared his throat. "So …" He avoided her eyes. "No dates."

Amita shook her head. "No. Not at the moment."

He laid back down and sighed deeply.

XXX

_Beta 13 48 Omega 83._

Amita squinted her eyes and sighed. The longer she stared at the letters and numbers, the less sense they made. But they had to mean something. Charlie rarely said things that didn't matter. Larry sat down beside her and put a cup of coffee on the the conference table in front of her. "Maybe it's a code."

Amita frowned and rasied her head to meet Larry's eyes. "What for?"

Larry sighed. "I've known Charles for a very long time now. He's not looking at the world like we do. Maybe it's a name."

"It's not a code I know. You don't, either. We already tried that." She was at a loss. "But it means something."

"Without a doubt," Larry answered. "But maybe," and he pulled over a mountain of files, "we should focus on the corruption."

XXX

He checked whether his weapon was loaded and looked out the windshield of his car into the parking lot of the FBI building. Apart from him, nobody was down here. When the disposable cell on his passenger seat started to ring, he grabbed it hastily. "I was just going to drive over there."

JM sounded satisfied. _"Just get rid of him as soon as possible."_

"I will, but his brother could be a problem."

"_Distract him,"_ JM answered and ended the call.

He sighed and dialled a number on the cell before he put one hand on the steering wheel while the other was holding the cell to his ear. When a click sounded, he just said, "Distract Eppes for the next hour or so. He can't go home. I'm driving over there to kill his brother."

The answer caused him to frown in irritation. "I don't give a damn how you're doing it. Just remember that I'm not the only one the professor could identify." He disconnected the call and started his car.

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: So, the last one. Finally. Thanks to all those who reviewed the story. It was fun.

I dedicate this last chapter to Katy M VT who didn't give up until she'd figured out what _Beta 13 48 Omega 83 _means. :)

**13.**

Don took his jacket from the backrest of his chair and nodded at Megan and Colby. "I'll be back after dinner."

Colby nodded and Megan said, "Give Charlie our best."

Don smiled at her and headed for the elevator. While he was putting the jacket on, he tried to switch his mind off for the next two hours. He wanted to concentrate on his family and his father didn't like it if Don was sitting at the table, but still at work in his mind.

He was waiting for the elevator to arrive when Agent Sandra Balin ran towards him. "Agent Eppes!"

He turned around to face her.

"The AD wants to see you right away."

He frowned. "What? I just updated him this afternoon."

She shrugged. "He told me as soon as possible. And he seemed pretty angry."

XXX

Don walked the anteroom of AD Gerald Wright's office restlessly. His secretary Melinda, a woman into the late 50s with gray short hair and a strict appearance, was already giving him the evil eye for passing by her desk every few seconds. Don gifted her with an apologetic smile before he leant against the wall and slid his hands into the pants pockets. He checked his watch and sighed impatiently.

"The AD is going to call you in as soon as he's ready," Melinda said calmly.

Don nodded. "I just thought he wanted to see me right away."

"He has his reasons for letting you wait, I'm sure."

"Yeah," Don answered and grinned at Melinda, "He's punishing me for not catching JM, yet." He pondered calling his father to tell him that he would be late - if he would be able to come at all. He was already waiting for fifteen minutes. The AD was taking his time talking to some colleagues in Washington. Don checked his watch again, rolled his eyes and waited.

XXX

Amita stared at Charlie's formula as if it would solve itself that way and sighed deeply. Larry had gone into the break room to fetch them fresh coffee and Amita was sitting alone in the conference room. She checked her watch. Perhaps she should go to Charlie's, eat with him and Alan and then get back to work with fresh eyes. She shook her head. She had to find the solution. She was so close. She opened an Excel document in which the data of all policemen was saved that had been included into the calculations so far. At the end of the list, Larry had added a FBI agent who had connections to the LAPD through his wife. Amita gasped. "Oh my God." Her hands started shaking when she dug through the mountain of notes on the large table.

Larry chose this moment to return. "To stay calm is the solution to every problem," he said.

Amita was too impatient to care. "Where's the note?"

"What-"

"The numbers and letters Charlie muttered in the hospital. Where are they?"

Larry put down the cups and started to help her. "Amita-"

"Look," she said in excitement and pointed at the laptop screen.

Larry frowned. "We've been staring at it for hours."

Amita found the note and held it up next to the screen. "Look," she repeated.

She could feel that Larry knew what she was looking at. He leant forward and stared at the screen. "Charles knew all along," he said, aghast.

"It's not _Beta 13 48 Omega 83_. It's _B1348O83_. He was so confused after the accident that he translated the letters to Greek. The combination is similar to this agent's service number."

"It's a service number of the FBI," Larry said.

"It's the service number of Charlie's attacker."

XXX

There was a knock at the Eppes' front door and Agent Mirren smiled at David when he opened. "Simon, what are you doing here?"

"Eppes sent me. He thinks that you should take a break." His eyes scanned the cozy living room and he found Charlie asleep on the couch and his father in one of the armchairs, a newspaper in his hand.

He was looking at Simon over the rims of his glasses. "Does that mean that my older son won't be home for dinner?"

Simon shook his head. "He won't make it, Mr. Eppes. We're on our own."

XXX

"_Tell me why", Charlie gasped, "We trusted you." _

_Simon Mirren stared down at him with a cold expression and shrugged. He tightened his grip on the baseball bat. _

Charlie opened his eyes and winced as he watched Mirren closing the front door. It had been him. All along. Charlie remembered the evening now. He remembered having failed solving the equations because something was missing. He remembered having been frustrated about it. He remembered having read the files again and noticing that all the information JM had - raids, interviews and witnesses - wasn't just with the LAPD but the FBI had had it also. He remembered having called Don's office and only reaching Simon Mirren whom he told that they'd been wrong and that he wanted to come to the office immediately after fetching something from home. He remembered the accident.

Alan disappeared into the kitchen. Charlie swallowed and hurried to close his eyes when Mirren turned to him. The agent cleared his throat softly and Charlie carefully opened his eyes. The young man looked to the kitchen and grabbed his weapon. Mirren knew that Charlie could identify him. Panic overtook him. He didn't know what he should do. He couldn't run away because his leg still was in a plaster and he wouldn't be able to move fast enough on the crutches. His eyes found his cell on the table and he reached for it. Mirren chose that moment to look at him. Charlie stared at him, then he straightened up and took deep breath to call for his father. Mirren was quicker. He made a headlong dive to the couch and pushed Charlie back, one hand pressed to his mouth and his knee pinning him down. Charlie cried out softly and tried to defend himself but Mirren's knee was pressing on his operation scar and his eyes teared up with the pain.

"Quiet now," Mirren said, pressing the gun's barrel to Charlie's head. He grinned. "You won't feel a thing."

XXX

"Agent Mirren?" Don asked in shock and pressed the cell to his ear, "Megan, is Amita sure?"

"_Yeah,"_ she answered.

"Where is he?" Don asked.

The door to AD Wright's office opened. Wright looked at him in confusion. "Agent Eppes, what are you doing here?"

"You wanted to see me, right?" Don asked. Megan's voice distracted him from listening to Wright's answer.

"_He's not here, Don. He left the building half an hour ago."_

Don's stomach turned and he became nauseous. Wright was staring at him. "Agent Eppes."

Don's hand felt heavy and he couldn't hold the cell up anymore. "He wanted to distract me … he didn't want me to drive home."

"What?" Wright asked in confusion.

Don ignored him and held the cell to his ear once more. "Megan, send a team to Charlie's. Mirren's on his way over. He'll kill him."

XXX

David turned down the radio before he answered his cell. "Sinclair?"

"_David, Agent Mirren's on his way to you. He's JM's inside man. Just grab dad and Charlie and go."_

Don sounded breathless and David heard loud steps as if he was running. He slammed on the brakes and parked at the side of the road. "Don, Agent Mirren arrived at Charlie's just a few minutes ago. I left."

XXX

Charlie was staring at Mirren, struggling for each breath while the agent was just smiling at him coldly. "JM sends his best," Mirren said. Charlie couldn't hide his surprise when Alan suddenly appeared behind Mirren. The frying pan hit the agent with such force that he was flung down and over the coffee table. A shot came loose and the bullet knocked a hole into the window. Fragments of glass rained down on Charlie and he raised his hands to protect his face. Alan roughly pulled him off the couch and to the front door. Charlie cried out, as he tried to use his broken leg and Alan wrapped an arm around his hips. Charlie clung to his father when they left the house. A bullet hissed past Charlie's head and embedded itself into one of the wooden pillars. Startled, he took an unsteady step to the side. Alan stumbled over Charlie's plaster, they lost their balance and fell down the stairs of the porch. Mirren rushed out of the house, his face twisted in anger, just when David's car stopped with squealing tires. David stepped out and pointed his weapon at Mirren who was aiming his gun at Charlie.

"Drop the gun," David ordered. Alan pulled Charlie closer and sat up, trying to shield him with his body.

"Take one step closer and I'll shoot him," Mirren threatened. Sirens cut the stuffy summer air. However, Charlie knew that they were still far away. Mirren was breathing heavily and his eyes were searching the surroundings.

'_He's just realizing that he lost,'_ Charlie thought. One of his father's hands pulled him closer and he looked at Alan who was staring at Mirren and the gun pointed at his son. The sirens got closer and Mirren's face hardened.

Charlie could see the moment in which he decided to do what he'd come for. No matter what. He looked at Charlie and pulled the trigger.

XXX

Don saw the two ambulances and the three cars of the LAPD in front of his house and brushed a trembling hand through his hair. He slammed on the brakes and got out of his car. He ran towards his parental home, waving an officer away impatiently with his badge, and looked around. He couldn't see his father or Charlie. Panic was choking him.

"Don!" someone called and his eyes caught David, standing next to an ambulance and waving at him. Don hurried to him and to the open double door on the back. Charlie was sitting on the bottom of the car. An EMT was checking his plaster.

When Charlie saw Don, his eyes filled with tears. "Donnie …"

The agent shook his head and hugged his brother to him. One of his hands buried itself in Charlie's hair. "Thank God," he whispered, "Charlie …"

His brother returned the embrace. "Donnie … it's dad."

Don froze. "What?" he asked. He pulled out of the embrace and stared at Charlie. "What about dad?"

David answered, "Mirren took a shot at Charlie. Your father caught the bullet."

Aghast, Don stared at David. "What hospital is he at?" he asked breathlessly.

"None, Donnie," Alan said from behind him and Don turned around.

"Dad." He smiled in relief.

His father had his arm in a sling and he was a little pale but he seemed to be okay. "It's just a flesh wound, Charlie," Alan said calmly and Don put a hand on his brother's shoulder.

Charlie sighed. "I thought-"

"It's alright," Alan answered and smiled at Charlie, "They want me to go to the hospital to get checked out properly, but I'm fine."

"Where's Mirren?" Don asked.

David shook his head. "He shot at Charlie and then he turned the gun against himself. He's dead."

"It's over?" Alan asked and sat down beside Charlie. He put an arm around his youngest son.

"No," Don answered, "no, it's not. Mirren didn't do this to avoid being identified by Charlie. He knew that he would be the number one suspect. The way he planned all this, it would have been obvious that he was the one who shot Charlie. I bet he was ready to leave the country after this job and JM would have helped him." Don shook his head. "He wanted to protect another insider. Someone who could have worked at the FBI after Charlie's death."

Charlie frowned. "But the only one I saw was Mirren. I know that there was a second person but I couldn't see him properly."

"Mirren couldn't know that," Don answered.

"So, you know who it is?" Alan asked.

Don nodded. "Yeah."

XXX

"Agent Tanja Singer," Megan said and crossed her arms. The young woman looked at her in confusion, her jacket in one hand and her purse over her shoulder. She was ready to go home. Colby stepped behind her. "We know that you're JM's insider," Megan said.

Tanja's eyes widened in disbelief. "What? No."

Megan continued, "We know that you sent Agent Eppes to AD Wright's office today to give your partner Simon Mirren the opportunity to kill Charlie."

Tanja shook her head. "I didn't. Sandra sent Agent Eppes to AD Wright."

"Agent Balin told us that you told her to."

"That's not true," Tanja answered.

"You did so after you received a call on your cell phone coming from Agent Mirren's disposable cell."

"No, that …" Tanja swallowed and turned to Colby briefly. When he only raised his eyebrows, she looked at Megan again. "My boyfriend called me."

"We found the disposable cell in Agent Mirren's car. Your cell number is in the list of numbers he dialled."

Tanja closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the uncertain young woman had disappeared and Megan was staring at a cool, collected criminal instead. "Disposable cells," she snorted, "that idiot! They're called disposable for a reason."

XXX

When Don entered the garden of his parental home a couple of days later, he found Charlie on one of the deck chairs in the sun. His brother had his eyes closed and seemed to be sleeping. Exams were piled on his belly and a red pen was in his hand. Don shook his head and took the papers away before the light summer breeze could. Charlie opened his eyes. "I'm not sleeping," he said.

"Huh," Don said, "could've fooled me."

Charlie smiled. He sat up. "So? How did the briefing go?"

"Well," Don sighed, "we lost the case. AD Wright wants another team to catch JM - one with fresh eyes."

"I doubt that they will succeed," Charlie said.

"Me, too," Don sighed. "But," he added, "at least we don't have to worry about JM coming after you. The only two persons you could identify as being his insiders are dead or in prison. I'll order the agents watching your back home."

Charlie nodded in relief. "Great. I really hate them following me everywhere I go."

"How did the appointment with the doctor go?" Don asked.

"Oh, I can move around a bit more, but the cast has to stay on for a few more weeks. And they think that it's a good sign that almost all my memories have returned, even though I could've done without some of them." Charlie smiled and Don grinned back.

"The date?" he asked.

Charlie rolled his eyes. "It was a disaster."

"Tell me that you'll try again."

Charlie bit his lip and shook his head. "I don't know."

"Charlie," Don sighed, "really, what's the hold up? You like each other … you're enjoying the same things … just imagine the kids you two could have."

"Kids? You're already thinking about kids?"

Don laughed. He put a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Charlie, go for it." He grinned. "It can't get any worse."

Charlie threw his pen at him.

END

05/10


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